Read Online Garden of Darkness by Anne Frasier - Free Book Online Page A

to unload the moving truck. Within an hour of their arrival her apartment was almost back to the way it had been before she’d tried to get the hell out of Dodge. They’d even put the dishes in the cupboard and returned books to the bookshelves. Boxes that had taken her weeks to pack were unpacked, broken down, and waiting to be picked up by Recycling.
    Erase and rewind.
    Part of her was shocked that she’d given in so easily. That same part wanted to call a cab and head for the nearest airport, get on a plane, and that would be that. Job done. Because once she had some physical distance between herself and Tuonela, the pull wouldn’t be as strong. She knew that from experience. Close proximity brought about confusion and mental chaos.
    But there was another part of her that was almost smug about the way things had turned out. Maybe she could have a better life somewhere else, but this was where she belonged. All roads led back.
    She drifted off to sleep again.
    Tossing and turning, she began to dream of food. That dream mingled with the dream about the man in the house, and then it shifted to the skinned body in the basement morgue, then back to food.
    There was nothing to eat in her apartment.
    She got up, slipped on a pair of jeans and a jacket, and drove to a twenty-four-hour grocery store in a strip mall on the edge of town.
    The streets were deserted, and the moon created deep shadows that moved and lingered in her peripheral vision. She heard faint voices and checked to see if the radio was on.
    No.
    She listened intently.
    The van’s engine, along with the tires singing over pavement, sounded like voices. Or maybe it was the wind, which let out a whistle whenever it hit the driver’s window just right. Or maybe it was the whisper of leaves as they marched through intersections. . . .
    The parking lot was empty; she pulled into a spot near the entrance.
    Automatic doors and metal railings.
    Inside, fluorescent lights were a blinding assault.
    “Looking for something in particular?”
    She was startled to find herself staring at the meat cooler.
    Somehow she’d traversed the length of the store.
    With no memory of the brief journey, she looked up at the stock boy. “Just browsing.”
    Anything that happened in the middle of the night took on a strange quality. Had she been asleep? Had she driven here in some dreamlike state? Humans weren’t nocturnal. Humans weren’t supposed to be awake after the sun went down.
    She caught a distorted glimpse of herself in the chrome trim of the meat case. Ashen skin and dark-circled eyes.
    The stock boy left and she glanced back down at the meat—and began to salivate. She grabbed both pint containers and flat trays, and carried them to the checkout counter.
    Why couldn’t she crave pickles and ice cream, like most pregnant women?
    The clerk commented on her purchases as she scanned. “You must be doing the raw diet. I started my dogs on that three months ago, and you should see them now. They have the shiniest coats and brightest eyes. Course, I’m going broke feeding them.” She rattled off the amount due. “What kind of dog do you have?”
    Rachel looked up from staring at a pool of blood that had leaked onto the conveyor belt. “What?”
    “Dog. What kind of dog?”
    “Oh.” She fished out her credit card and handed it to the woman. “A mutt.” She couldn’t believe she was lying about having a dog. “He has some shepherd in him. Maybe some collie.” She didn’t want to tell the woman the meat was all for her.
    The woman slid the card through the reader and passed it back. “Mutts are good. When you get special breeds you can run into all sorts of trouble. Blindness, hip problems. And you’re supposed to kill them if they have a defect. I can’t imagine doing that.”
    “That would be awful,” Rachel agreed, unable to fully concentrate on the conversation.
    The woman double-bagged the dripping meat and handed the plastic bags to Rachel. “Wait.”