Read Online Closer Than You Think by Karen Rose - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Rose
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it.
Dammit. She’s alive .
A second ambulance drove up as the first was driving away. Why two ambulances?
This paramedic went to the squad car, leaned into the open rear passenger door and helped someone out. Someone with dark red hair wearing a green suit.
His eyes narrowed. Faith . She’d called the power company. She’d called a locksmith. She’d been on her way to his house. She’d found Arianna.
Panic tried to choke him, but ruthlessly he pushed it back. He couldn’t panic now. He needed to get back to the house. Get rid of the evidence .
He backed away, careful not to disturb a single leaf, and when he was out of sight, he ran to his van. He barely pressed his foot to the accelerator, wanting to draw no attention to himself.
That the cops would connect the girl to the power company’s truck and the truck to the O’Bannion house was a given. There were no other houses around. How much time did he have to get away? Unknown.
He had to hurry and hope they’d knock, find no one home and go away.
But he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Not with Faith there. Fury simmered in his gut. He was going to lose everything. Because she had come back. I should have killed her when I had the chance. And he’d tried, but the bitch simply wouldn’t die.
Arianna was a setback, but not a complete disaster. Even if she lived, she couldn’t identify him. She’d been blindfolded the entire time, except for when she was running to the meter reader’s truck. There were a few seconds when he’d begun to chase her. If she’d looked in the rear-view mirror . . .
Unlikely , he told himself harshly. It was only a few seconds and she’d been distraught.
He turned in to the gravel drive and pulled the van around to the back. He had two dead bodies outside and two live ones inside. The two live ones would be dead soon enough. Corinne Longstreet was now excess baggage. A liability. Once Arianna was identified, people would start looking for Corinne. He needed to get her out of here and dead and buried ASAP.
And the child? She’d better be very, very contrite. Showing even an iota of spirit meant that she was too dangerous to be retrained. Which meant he’d have to kill her too.
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 5.30 P.M.
You will not throw up. Sitting in the back of the ambulance with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Faith had been repeating the same phrase for twenty minutes. She didn’t know if it was helping, but at least it wasn’t hurting. She hadn’t been sick all over the crime scene. Yet.
She’d held it together until the cops had arrived, but the moment they’d taken over, her adrenaline crashed. Nausea and uncontrollable shaking had commenced, accompanied by the playback loop in her mind.
Gunshots, screams. Blood on her hands. Gordon’s sightless eyes staring up at her. She kept telling herself that this was different. That the girl she’d found would live.
The first ambulance had rushed the teenager to one of the hospitals downtown. Faith would soon follow, but at a much more sedate pace. The EMT had advised her to have her head checked out by the ER, but Faith wasn’t sure she could ride in a moving vehicle just yet.
Besides, the detectives investigating the girl’s assault would be arriving soon. She knew they’d want a full report. The thought of which made her want to turn tail and run.
They’ll ask questions about you too. They’ll find out who you really are. Or were .
If they asked, she’d answer honestly. Although she might get lucky. The detectives might keep their questions focused on the girl she’d found in the road and leave her alone.
And if they do find out who you were? Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She knew that not all cops were like Charlie and his friends. Some were like Catalina Vega, who’d believed her when she’d reported being stalked and terrorized by Peter Combs. Unfortunately, Vega was in the minority. Most of the cops who’d taken her
Dammit. She’s alive .
A second ambulance drove up as the first was driving away. Why two ambulances?
This paramedic went to the squad car, leaned into the open rear passenger door and helped someone out. Someone with dark red hair wearing a green suit.
His eyes narrowed. Faith . She’d called the power company. She’d called a locksmith. She’d been on her way to his house. She’d found Arianna.
Panic tried to choke him, but ruthlessly he pushed it back. He couldn’t panic now. He needed to get back to the house. Get rid of the evidence .
He backed away, careful not to disturb a single leaf, and when he was out of sight, he ran to his van. He barely pressed his foot to the accelerator, wanting to draw no attention to himself.
That the cops would connect the girl to the power company’s truck and the truck to the O’Bannion house was a given. There were no other houses around. How much time did he have to get away? Unknown.
He had to hurry and hope they’d knock, find no one home and go away.
But he knew that wouldn’t be the case. Not with Faith there. Fury simmered in his gut. He was going to lose everything. Because she had come back. I should have killed her when I had the chance. And he’d tried, but the bitch simply wouldn’t die.
Arianna was a setback, but not a complete disaster. Even if she lived, she couldn’t identify him. She’d been blindfolded the entire time, except for when she was running to the meter reader’s truck. There were a few seconds when he’d begun to chase her. If she’d looked in the rear-view mirror . . .
Unlikely , he told himself harshly. It was only a few seconds and she’d been distraught.
He turned in to the gravel drive and pulled the van around to the back. He had two dead bodies outside and two live ones inside. The two live ones would be dead soon enough. Corinne Longstreet was now excess baggage. A liability. Once Arianna was identified, people would start looking for Corinne. He needed to get her out of here and dead and buried ASAP.
And the child? She’d better be very, very contrite. Showing even an iota of spirit meant that she was too dangerous to be retrained. Which meant he’d have to kill her too.
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 5.30 P.M.
You will not throw up. Sitting in the back of the ambulance with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Faith had been repeating the same phrase for twenty minutes. She didn’t know if it was helping, but at least it wasn’t hurting. She hadn’t been sick all over the crime scene. Yet.
She’d held it together until the cops had arrived, but the moment they’d taken over, her adrenaline crashed. Nausea and uncontrollable shaking had commenced, accompanied by the playback loop in her mind.
Gunshots, screams. Blood on her hands. Gordon’s sightless eyes staring up at her. She kept telling herself that this was different. That the girl she’d found would live.
The first ambulance had rushed the teenager to one of the hospitals downtown. Faith would soon follow, but at a much more sedate pace. The EMT had advised her to have her head checked out by the ER, but Faith wasn’t sure she could ride in a moving vehicle just yet.
Besides, the detectives investigating the girl’s assault would be arriving soon. She knew they’d want a full report. The thought of which made her want to turn tail and run.
They’ll ask questions about you too. They’ll find out who you really are. Or were .
If they asked, she’d answer honestly. Although she might get lucky. The detectives might keep their questions focused on the girl she’d found in the road and leave her alone.
And if they do find out who you were? Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She knew that not all cops were like Charlie and his friends. Some were like Catalina Vega, who’d believed her when she’d reported being stalked and terrorized by Peter Combs. Unfortunately, Vega was in the minority. Most of the cops who’d taken her
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