One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

read what he was hearing, and his expression abruptly changed. They had found something, she could feel it, and her heart drummed.

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker so my partner can hear,” Warren said.

Tara moved a little closer as Warren held the phone out for them both to hear.

The man on the phone cleared his throat. “So I was saying, we found a hair. In the trunk. It’s definitely from a female.” Tara looked up at Warren, meeting his eyes, only to see the same shock. They had their doubts, but this could make them all subside. If the hair was in fact a victim’s, that could be all they needed for certainty.

“Do you know whose it is yet?” Warren asked.

“No, not yet. We’ll have results in the morning. Unfortunately, we don’t have any DNA for the third victim, but we’re going to compare the hair with the DNA of victims one and two. We also just stopped at the Brennans’ and got a DNA sample from the mother and daughter so we can rule them out if need be.”

Warren thanked him and hung up. He looked at Tara. They both knew there was the potential for substantial evidence, but their only option now was to wait. Warren looked up at a clock hanging on the doorway. Tara spun around. It was now evening. They had exhausted their efforts, but they still had yet to find Sofia.

She looked at Warren. “Sofia,” she said. The name rolled off her lips, and there was nothing more she needed to say. Warren understood, for he felt it too. His eyes were glossy from the tiring long day, and sadness swelled in them.

“They’re going to keep looking into the night,” he replied. He was referring to Sheriff Patel and the army of other officers that were diligently searching on every beach nearby. But Tara could see in his eyes that Warren knew that wasn’t all she needed to hear. It was the worry that they might not find her, that she was still out there, alive. But they both knew they had nowhere else to look. Every business was closed. They didn’t have a lead. They could only hope that that by capturing Brennan, she was somewhere safe.

“We’ll pick up in the morning,” Warren said. She could hear in his voice that he was disappointed, but it was their only option now.

They moved to the exit, but all Tara could focus on was another day lost, and as she reached for the door handle, a terrified Sofia haunted her.

***

Tara turned the keys to her condo and opened the door to a room full of darkness. She had arrived home before John. He was still at band practice. Tara had spoken to him on the way, and she was somewhat relieved to have some time to herself. She flicked the lights on, removed her shoes, placed her keys and phone next to the door, and made her way into the bedroom. A hot shower was what she needed. She was exhausted, but her mind was still fully awake, digging at every corner. Sofia was still not found. It was a realization that clung to her mind, unable to let go. It sickened her that she was home preparing for a shower when Sofia could still be out there, when her family was still worried sick.

Tara undressed, turned the water on, and stepped into the shower. The warm water was soothing against her skin. She took a deep breath, letting the steam fill her lungs. It soothed her, but not enough to make her mind stop racing. She knew it wouldn’t until Sofia was found and she was certain they had the killer. She had her suspicions about Brennan, but she still wasn’t one hundred percent certain. The more she thought about it, the more she felt that he was telling the truth—that he didn’t know Alyssa White.

Tara’s thoughts were interrupted to the sound of her phone ringing in the distance. It was probably John, she assumed, and she listened as it continued to ring and then stopped. She made a mental note to call when she was done, but then she heard her phone beep. She had a voicemail. John never left voicemails, unless it was important. And if it wasn’t John, who else would call her this late?

She hurried up in the shower. She had a bad habit of thinking the worst. Maybe it was John, maybe something happened, a car accident. The thoughts swirled through her head. She tried desperately to shake them off. He would’ve called the house phone next, she told herself. She didn’t know why she always thought that way—why tragedy would be her first instinct. She could only assume that it was a byproduct of her childhood trauma, and she hated that she tortured herself with those thoughts.

She stepped out of the shower, dried off, and quickly got dressed. As she exited the bathroom, she heard the jostle of keys in the front door and then the turn of the knob. She instantly relaxed. She knew it was John, and as she entered the kitchen, his smile greeted her at the door. He was still dressed in his business attire, even though he had just come from practice. He was wearing a button-up shirt that was undone from his neck to his chest, his sleeves pushed up his forearm. His hair was slicked over, and Tara couldn’t help but marvel at how handsome he looked.

“How was your day?” he asked as he placed the keys down on the counter and leaned over to give her a kiss. He then made his way to the fridge and began rummaging through it. Tara took a seat at the island.

His words instantly brought her thoughts back to Sofia, and her stomach churned into a knot. “Tough,” she admitted, but she didn’t go into details. She didn’t want to, and John understood. He nodded as he took a quick glance