Read Online Needing by Sarah Masters - Free Book Online Page A

with you.”
    With both of them out on the pavement, Oliver said, “Come on. Let’s get this over and done with.”
    They walked, heads down, along the path made of broken patio slabs, the cement between crumbling, gone in places. Oliver got a dose of trepidation—it filled him, growing from his toes right to the top of his head, a cold, spiteful fear that left him shaking.
    “Something’s off here as well, man. Fuck!”
    Langham reached the front door first. “Like what? Tell me.”
    “Like at Mark’s place. I don’t think Alex is even here.” That piece of knowledge eased Oliver’s mind somewhat, but the fact that something hinky was going on inside those walls still bothered him. “It isn’t clear what’s going on in there, but we’re going to find more than we bargained for. I feel it. Know it.”
    “All right. Calm down and concentrate. I’ll knock, okay?”
    Oliver nodded and watched Langham lift a tight fist and bang on the door. Once again, no one answered, and they waited for a moment before Langham knocked again.
    “Fucking déjà vu,” Langham said, knocking a third time. He walked to the window, another living room Oliver would bet, and held his hands over his eyes to peer inside. “No angry visitors in this one, but the old woman’s asleep on the couch.”
    Oliver knocked—hard and insistent.
    “No movement from her,” the detective said.
    “Probable cause to kick the door down?”
    “Yep. I could have thought she was dead, know what I’m saying?”
    Oliver nodded, and Langham walked back to the door. It took several kicks to the wood for it to give in and admit them. Langham went first, as always, and rounded the doorframe to their right, entering the room the old lady was in. Caught up in the adrenaline rush of entering a house without permission or a warrant, Oliver didn’t catch the sense of a new death. Not until he stood in the centre of the living room behind Langham, whose wide frame blocked Oliver’s view of the old woman. He peered around him and recoiled at the sight. She sat on the sofa, head against the back, her mouth filled with those fucking sugar strands, nose held closed with a clothes peg.
    Alex was one sick bastard.
    “Jesus,” Langham breathed, pulling out his radio and calling in her death.
    Oliver reversed to the doorway, wanting to put distance between himself and the old lady. He didn’t think he could take her spirit latching onto him and spilling the last moments of her life. In the hallway, he waited for Langham to join him, and they followed their usual pattern of scouring the lower and upper rooms before coming back down to stop at a door positioned under the stairs.
    “Mark said his brother lived down in the basement, right?” Langham asked.
    “Yep. But he isn’t down there. I’d say he fucked off once he killed the old woman. But we’d better check anyway, right?”
    Langham nodded, opening the only door they hadn’t tried. Oliver sighed. Something evil was down there. Langham switched on the light, revealing surprisingly clean plastered walls that turned halfway down. Oliver steeled himself to face whatever it was waiting for them and followed the detective down stairs that creaked every time they stepped on them. The sense of dread grew stronger as they rounded the corner, the light from the stairway giving scant illumination, highlighting only the floor directly before them. The basement could be small or large, for all Oliver knew—the blackness beyond that slice of light hid absolutely everything—and he felt along the wall for another light switch. His fingers brushed over the protruding plastic switch, and he flicked it on.
    Sound exploded, like frightened jungle birds, all caws and startled shrieks. Oliver cursed and jumped, squinting in the burst of light to try to get used to the brightness.
    “Oh, fuck me sideways,” Langham said, moving forward at speed.
    Oliver stared ahead at several cages holding children whose ages ranged