The door slowly cracked open.
Ava smiled, eyes grew and she shrugged before she pushed it fully open.
“Chelsea? It’s Ava Cox from across the street.” She stepped inside the two story foyer and we followed her nearly running her over as we all looked around without noticing where we were going. “My friends and I wanted to pop over and take a quick tour in case we have some friends who might be looking.”
There was silence.
“Chelsea?” Ava called again. The five of us standing there quietly.
“Maybe she’s out back smoking.” Dottie snickered.
“Funny,” Abby said, flatly. “Let’s go see.”
“Did she leave with the couple in the camper?” Ava turned to Dottie
“How on earth should I know. I was minding my own business, enjoying my cigarette.” Dottie just told us a bold face lie. “Fine. No. She stood right here at this door and waved them off.”
“It wasn’t no more than a few minutes ago, she has to be in here somewhere.” Ava lead us down the foyer. “What on earth?”
I looked at what Ava was looking at and noticed the stream of blood.
“Is that?” Ava’s voice lingered while the rest of us walked past her to follow the red trail.
“Blood,” Betts gasped.
“Blood?” Ava questioned and hurried over near the window in the kitchen next to the table when we noticed Chelsea on the ground.
“Stop.” I put my hand out when I noticed the trail of blood had come from her head.
I bent down and careful not to disturb anything to feel for a pulse.
I glanced up and noticed there was some of her hair on the corner of the table like she’d fallen, hit her head and now . . .
“Dead,” I whispered. “Ava,” I sucked in a deep breath because I had to muster up all the strength in my body, “call 9-1-1. She’s dead.”