Read Online Crucified by Adelle Laudan - Free Book Online Page A

two or more.
    If he took Casey, wouldn’t he have pictures proudly
displayed? Maybe he flushed those types of
photos before Dianne burst in the bathroom door. Or, maybe they had
the wrong guy . Was it possible he was still
out there stalking his next victim?
    Taylor pondered the possibility as his eyes roamed the
panoramic view from his back deck. His brow creased. Something is different .
    The picture
postcard view before him was etched in his mind. He’d spent many a
morning taking in the sight before him. He folded his arms across
his chest.
    Smoke .
    Not the
billowing smoke of a fire out of control. If he guessed right, this
smoke came from a chimney.
    Odd. A fire in the heat of summer? He’d never seen signs of life out that way before. Shortly
after moving in, he’d taken MJ for a tour of what lay outside his
back door. He found a rocky incline between the field of flowers
and the ocean. The only evidence of civilization was a couple of
abandoned cabins once occupied by fishermen during the peak fishing
times.
    He’d peeked in
a few windows and confirmed nobody had been there for a very long
time. Overgrown weeds climbed the windows. A broken pane served as
an entrance for stray animals. Small piles of evidence they’d been
there lay scattered across the dirty floors.
    Taylor lifted his coffee cup and drained the contents. Not
that he needed an excuse to go for a ride. He walked inside and
scooped up his keys off of the kitchen counter . I’ll just go take a quick look around to make sure there isn’t anything on fire .
    There wasn’t a
cloud in the sky as he rode toward the ocean. He licked his lips,
able to taste the salt from the ocean. Seagulls soared above him
looking for a morning snack. The unmistakable scent of wood smoke
wafted toward him as he pulled over to the shoulder. An unkempt
gravel road led to where the cabins were. No way was he riding MJ
down the pothole-riddled laneway. He locked up his bike and walked
toward the spiral of smoke coming from the myriad of trees.
    The hairs on
his arms stood on end. The roof of a cabin peeked above the
overgrown foliage. Unease and trepidation slowed his pace. There
wasn’t a legitimate reason why he was feeling this way, but the
sensation was so overpowering he took heed.
    Taylor scooted
from tree to tree, safely hidden behind the tall, gnarled trunks. A
familiar, old, beat up van was parked beside a cabin where smoke
rose from the chimney. He remembered seeing it around town from
time to time. On the other side was a small stone building, not
unlike similar structures scattered along the oceanfront. The stone
kept the temperature ideally cool. Fishermen used to store their
fish inside them.
    He caught
movement from inside the cabin. Slowly, he inched his way up under
the window ledge and peeked inside. A big man, wearing a long black
trench coat stood in front of an old cast iron wood stove. He wore
the collar turned up, and unruly red curls poked out above it. The
stranger had a slight bald patch on top of his head. His gloved
hands sorted through a stack of photos he held out in front of
him.
    He’s got to be baking in that trench coat. Goosebumps crawled up his arms. He half expected
him to turn around flashing a butcher knife.
    A thick layer of dust covered everything except for a space on
the end of a table that had been swiped clean. If he lives here, he didn’t take any time to clean up the
place. A single chair sat in front of the
space. Animal droppings littered the floor and spider webs filled
every nook and cranny visible from the window.
    On a small side
table next to the door sat half a dozen iron spikes, the kind they
use on the railways. A long handled sledgehammer sat propped
against the wall beside it, and hanging from a hook above the
table…a Polaroid camera.
    Taylor’s heart
thrummed madly. Maybe he’s .just taking pictures of the ocean, or
the whales… His gaze traveled the length of the man.
    He’s the
fucker who took Casey, I