Read Online Fins 4 Ur Sins by Naomi Fraser - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Naomi Fraser
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vampire shows. Curious,
I leave it on and watch the footage.
A graphic warning appears on the
screen.
A blonde reporter speaks loudly
on a mangrove-ridden beach, a microphone snug in her hand. “Thirty-eight year
old, Gregor Bane, is the
suspect in the Anders Peterson murder case. Police arrested him this morning
after investigators found human remains and Mr. Peterson’s personal items in
the suspect’s home.” The image flashes to police walking a man alongside the
local courthouse, his head pixelated. “Although authorities have yet to release
a detailed statement, all evidence suggests Gregor Bane killed the young swim star, but his parents and friends are still under
close police investigation.”
The next images and voice over
reveal details about Anders. His smiling face while he’s wearing his uniform. A
smattering of freckles, broad shoulders, brown eyes. His mum crying on his
father’s shoulders while being interviewed and asking for help. His mum’s face
is a mess. The way my mum’s looked when I woke up in hospital.
Back to the
reporter, and her red coat flapping in the brisk wind.
“Again police are asking for
information about that night and hope they can piece together what has become
an absolute tragedy to young Anders Peterson and his family. Our sources say
there have been similar accidents and one as close as a few weeks ago when
another young teenager’s body was apparently found on a beach, although she
survived. For now, this beach will be closed as police investigate the crime
scene. Back to you, Sam.”
My iPhone jingles again. I grab
my phone and tap the message icon.
It’s Bethany. R
u watching news on 5?
I sit back down and speedily
type: Y. Omg !
She replies: Do u remember
this guy? Ur mum is gonna b happy they found him
I text back: I know. But I
don’t remember him tho
Mum’s car pulls into the drive,
bright headlights shining through the glass panels in the door. I text Bethany: Mum’s here, gotta go
Mum unlocks the front door and
walks down the hall, her shoulders slumped, face tight. “Hey,
sweetheart. Oh, you’re watching the news. Did you hear they caught a man
who might have killed that poor boy?” She jostles through to the living room
and sets her handbag at her feet. “I heard it on the radio on the way home.”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, wondering
if the taboo on the whole subject has now been broken. “I watched the news just
then. Do you think he was the one—” I instantly close my mouth and guard what I
say, but the need to tell her everything is a knife in my chest.
“Do I think he was the one who
made you go over the cliff?” she asks gently in the silence.
I hesitate, and then say tensely,
“Yes.”
“I don’t know, honey.” She nods.
“We’ll wait and see. For now it’s enough knowing you’re safe. Does his face
ring a bell?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. And you know how good I am with faces.
There’s this new guy at school, and I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere.”
“Mm.
Interesting. If he acts strange let me know.” She studies me. “No
homework?”
“No, not today. We had sports and an exam. Hopefully, I did good .”
“You would have.” Mum moves back
into the lounge room, collapses onto the sofa and groans. “I swear I had to
show a buyer eight different houses today. My body is killing me. I need to get
an early night. A bath, then bed. I might actually be
able to sleep for once instead of staying up, worrying.”
I frown. “Why
so many houses?”
Mum shakes her head, and her
blonde chignon loosens, spilling out over her shoulders. “No idea.” She shrugs.
“He had the money to spend though. Cash buyer. Oh, he
kept us late.”
“Would you like a coffee? I made
dinner.”
“I’d love one.” She smiles up at
me as I walk into the kitchen. “Thank you, honey.”
“I’ll heat your dinner in the
microwave for you. I’ve already eaten mine.”
“You are a lifesaver.”
When I get back to
I leave it on and watch the footage.
A graphic warning appears on the
screen.
A blonde reporter speaks loudly
on a mangrove-ridden beach, a microphone snug in her hand. “Thirty-eight year
old, Gregor Bane, is the
suspect in the Anders Peterson murder case. Police arrested him this morning
after investigators found human remains and Mr. Peterson’s personal items in
the suspect’s home.” The image flashes to police walking a man alongside the
local courthouse, his head pixelated. “Although authorities have yet to release
a detailed statement, all evidence suggests Gregor Bane killed the young swim star, but his parents and friends are still under
close police investigation.”
The next images and voice over
reveal details about Anders. His smiling face while he’s wearing his uniform. A
smattering of freckles, broad shoulders, brown eyes. His mum crying on his
father’s shoulders while being interviewed and asking for help. His mum’s face
is a mess. The way my mum’s looked when I woke up in hospital.
Back to the
reporter, and her red coat flapping in the brisk wind.
“Again police are asking for
information about that night and hope they can piece together what has become
an absolute tragedy to young Anders Peterson and his family. Our sources say
there have been similar accidents and one as close as a few weeks ago when
another young teenager’s body was apparently found on a beach, although she
survived. For now, this beach will be closed as police investigate the crime
scene. Back to you, Sam.”
My iPhone jingles again. I grab
my phone and tap the message icon.
It’s Bethany. R
u watching news on 5?
I sit back down and speedily
type: Y. Omg !
She replies: Do u remember
this guy? Ur mum is gonna b happy they found him
I text back: I know. But I
don’t remember him tho
Mum’s car pulls into the drive,
bright headlights shining through the glass panels in the door. I text Bethany: Mum’s here, gotta go
Mum unlocks the front door and
walks down the hall, her shoulders slumped, face tight. “Hey,
sweetheart. Oh, you’re watching the news. Did you hear they caught a man
who might have killed that poor boy?” She jostles through to the living room
and sets her handbag at her feet. “I heard it on the radio on the way home.”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, wondering
if the taboo on the whole subject has now been broken. “I watched the news just
then. Do you think he was the one—” I instantly close my mouth and guard what I
say, but the need to tell her everything is a knife in my chest.
“Do I think he was the one who
made you go over the cliff?” she asks gently in the silence.
I hesitate, and then say tensely,
“Yes.”
“I don’t know, honey.” She nods.
“We’ll wait and see. For now it’s enough knowing you’re safe. Does his face
ring a bell?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. And you know how good I am with faces.
There’s this new guy at school, and I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere.”
“Mm.
Interesting. If he acts strange let me know.” She studies me. “No
homework?”
“No, not today. We had sports and an exam. Hopefully, I did good .”
“You would have.” Mum moves back
into the lounge room, collapses onto the sofa and groans. “I swear I had to
show a buyer eight different houses today. My body is killing me. I need to get
an early night. A bath, then bed. I might actually be
able to sleep for once instead of staying up, worrying.”
I frown. “Why
so many houses?”
Mum shakes her head, and her
blonde chignon loosens, spilling out over her shoulders. “No idea.” She shrugs.
“He had the money to spend though. Cash buyer. Oh, he
kept us late.”
“Would you like a coffee? I made
dinner.”
“I’d love one.” She smiles up at
me as I walk into the kitchen. “Thank you, honey.”
“I’ll heat your dinner in the
microwave for you. I’ve already eaten mine.”
“You are a lifesaver.”
When I get back to
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