Dead Girl Hiding
Sherry A. Phillips
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright 2020 Sherry A. Phillips
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the author.
This book is dedicated to my three children; Taylor, Jackson and Montgomery who I love unconditionally. You inspire me to be the best version of myself.
They say when the devil comes knocking at your door, he’ll come dressed as everything you ever wanted …
And he did.
Part I
The Devil Comes Knocking
Sarah
It was my first day back at UVA in Charlottesville and the beginning of my sophomore year. The air was hot on my face and bare arms. The humidity was close to ninety percent and I could feel the beads of perspiration forming on my upper lip as I grabbed the first box out of my trunk to take it into our new apartment.
Last year my friends, Kaitlyn, Julianna and I shared a dorm room. It was okay, but we decided over spring break to rent an apartment together this year. We found an amazing old house that was converted into a duplex and jumped at it. It has three bedrooms, three bathrooms and plenty of space to stretch out and enjoy our second year of college life.
We all felt very grown up as we signed the lease.
I grew up in a small town in Kentucky, not far from the Tennessee line. I never planned on staying in that small town for the rest of my life and the excitement I felt at coming to UVA last year was only surpassed by my excitement at moving into my own apartment with my friends this year.
I didn’t see him coming. I didn’t know the impact he would have on my life as I struggled to get the front door opened. It was as though he appeared out of nowhere.
“Here,” he said, taking the box from me as though it weighed less than a newborn kitten. “Let me help you with that.”
I looked up into moss-green eyes and blushed. This wasn’t like me, which made me duck my head from embarrassment. He was model gorgeous. It was sort of like seeing a young Brad Pitt in person for the first time.
“Thank you,” I stammered, reaching for the keys in my purse and unlocking the door.
“I’m Daniel,” he said. His smile showed perfectly aligned white teeth, but it wasn’t his smile that melted me. His eyes had me captivated as they crinkled a little at the corners when he smiled. My stomach felt as though a million butterflies were taking flight.
I motioned for him where I needed the box to go while my stomach tumbled at his close proximity.
“I’m Sarah,” I said, brushing off imaginary dirt and extending my hand.
What felt like an electric current charged from my fingertips, up my arm and flowed through my entire body at his touch as he took my hand.
“Sarah,” he repeated, his eyes making me feel as though he was staring into my soul. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I manage. “Thank you for helping me. Are you a student?”
“Guilty,” he admitted and the tension between us seemed to relax a bit. “It’s my final semester for my Masters. You?”
“Yes,” I answered as we stepped out onto the porch again. It felt as though he were towering over my five feet six-inch frame.
We stood in awkward silence for a few moments before I spoke again.
“I guess I should get the rest of my boxes inside,” I said, wondering if he planned to help with those as well.
“I would love to stay and help you out,” he said. “But I have to get to Dr. Burke’s office for a meeting.”
“I have Dr. Burke for one of my classes. Maybe I’ll see you again.” Did that sound desperate? I hope not.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he smiled and I watch as he headed down the steps and toward the rotunda.
I sigh and manage to get the rest of my boxes in, thankful they aren’t too heavy in this increasing heat and humidity. They don’t say the South is sultry for nothing.
I remove my shoes, not so much to protect the hardwood floors, those had seen better days, but mostly because I like being barefoot. I like the feel of the cool, flat wood against my feet.
“You’re going to get splinters doing that,” I hear Kaitlyn’s voice through the screened door right before it opens and closes with a resounding bang behind her.
“Let me help!” I rush toward her and grab the teetering top boxes from her arms and place them on a nearby table. She places the rest of the boxes on the floor and we give each other a bear hug.
“It feels like forever since we’ve seen each other,” I tell her. She looks good. Her light-brown hair has turned blonder during the summer and her skin is tanned and flushed from the heat. She has a very girl-next-door kind of beauty and I’ve always envied her fresh-faced good looks. “You look incredible.”
“Me?” she smiles. “What about you? As always, you look as though you could step off the cover of a magazine! Do you ever have a hair out of place or clothes that don’t look like they’ve been curated by a Vogue editor?”
I scrunch my face up at her comment.
“These are hardly designer clothes,” I frown. “I just look at the fashion magazines and try and find similar looking items at discount and thrift stores. Anyone can do that.”
“Anyone might be able to do it, but most of us don’t end up looking as effortlessly chic as you do all the time. Honestly, I’d swear you were from Park Avenue instead of some small town in Kentucky.”
Kaitlyn would know about Park Avenue. Her parents are divorced and she lives with her mother in a tiny apartment in Manhattan while her father lives with his new wife in a mansion on Long Island. Many times I wished I could live in big city like New York, but I would never move that far away from my parents.
“Any sign of Julianna yet?” Kaitlyn asks as she picks up one of her smaller boxes.
“Not yet,” I shake my head and pick up the other two boxes I’d helped her with before.
“Knowing her, she’s probably getting the phone numbers of all the cute guys within a five-mile radius and inviting them to a party here tonight.”
“She wouldn’t dare!”
Kaitlyn turns on the stairs, faces me and arches her eyebrows.
“Okay, maybe she would. But she wouldn’t, right?”
“I guess we’ll find out when she shows up. Which bedroom do you want?”
“The one on the right at the top of the stairs. It’s probably the smallest one, but it has the most windows and you know how much I love the sunlight streaming in the windows in the morning.”