Read Online Night of the Living Thread (A Threadville Mystery) by Janet Bolin - Free Book Online
Authors: Janet Bolin
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music crashed behind Brianna’s closed door, but between drumbeats, I heard her voice. A light on the phone showed that she was using the cordless receiver I kept in the guest suite.
It was nearly nine thirty. I encouraged the dogs and kittens outside. Mustache and Bow-Tie dug in my flower garden, then puffed themselves up and skittered sideways through the open door and into my apartment. I shut them into the master suite and let the dogs play in my fenced backyard.
Watching Sally-Forth and Tally-Ho, I almost missed the blur sneaking toward the lake along the mist-covered riverside trail. It was a tall person, walking softly as if he or she didn’t want to be seen or heard, and wearing dark slacks and jacket.
It couldn’t have been Haylee. She wouldn’t have avoided the dogs and me. I was almost certain the person was a man, maybe Floyd the zombie or Dare the thriller author.
Fog closed around him. Staring at where he’d been, my dogs raised their noses to test the air. Who had that been, and why had he been creeping around? I dashed up the hill to my patio, opened the sliding door, and grabbed a flashlight and the dogs’ leashes. Brianna’s music blared. The light on my phone showed she was still on the line. I didn’t hear her voice.
I went outside. Unnerved by that furtive person in the mist, I locked the door. My usually adventurous dogs had, for once, followed me up the hill. Had the person inching along the trail alarmed them? I snapped leashes onto their collars.
Pulling my strangely unwilling dogs behind me, I ran down the hill and out the gate to the trail. I couldn’t see anyone in the thick fog.
The river made eerie noises like monsters gulping and swallowing. My flashlight was almost useless in the white air, but when I aimed it down the middle of the trail, something near my fence caught my eye—a greenish strand undulating as if it were alive. The world’s longest glowworm? The dogs ignored the thing, but I went closer. I shined my light on it, and it went gray, but when I took the light away, the thing glowed again.
Glow-in-the-dark thread.
Slowly, I turned around. I caught glimpses of it near the fence going both up the river and down, the direction the slinking person had taken. I hadn’t noticed the thread ten minutes earlier when I’d been on my way home, but maybe its glow had worn out, and I’d regenerated it just now with my flashlight.
A scream pierced the fog.
A woman? I started downstream toward the sound, but my dogs were reluctant to do anything besides weave their leashes around my legs.
The woman screamed again.
With some confusion and not much help from Sally and Tally, I sorted us all out and we trotted down the trail toward the park.
In the fog ahead, a wavering glow separated itself from a larger, steadier glow on the hill and wobbled down the slope toward the river.
Sally and Tally became determined to investigate the steep riverbank. Pulling me with them, they veered off the trail and into the mud.
I planted my feet on the slippery slope and whispered their names. They charged up the bank. Tails down, they tried to lead me home.
Again, I untangled their leashes and forced them toward the park.
The smaller glow had gained speed on the downward slope. Metal wheels like casters clattered on concrete. The boat launch and the road to it were the only pavement in that part of the park.
Again, the dogs tried to take me home, but I gave them the hand signal for “stay.” Panting nervously, they leaned against my legs.
What was I seeing? The glowing thing on casters would have to be Edna’s wedding skirt. Could it be traveling downhill by itself? I ran, pulling my reluctant dogs with me.
The woman shrieked again. “Don’t push me! Don’t—”
The scream was bitten off.
The dogs instantly straightened their legs, an effective way of putting on their brakes, and mine, also. Whimpering, Tally-Ho again tried to lead us all home. “Sh,” I cautioned. Holding
It was nearly nine thirty. I encouraged the dogs and kittens outside. Mustache and Bow-Tie dug in my flower garden, then puffed themselves up and skittered sideways through the open door and into my apartment. I shut them into the master suite and let the dogs play in my fenced backyard.
Watching Sally-Forth and Tally-Ho, I almost missed the blur sneaking toward the lake along the mist-covered riverside trail. It was a tall person, walking softly as if he or she didn’t want to be seen or heard, and wearing dark slacks and jacket.
It couldn’t have been Haylee. She wouldn’t have avoided the dogs and me. I was almost certain the person was a man, maybe Floyd the zombie or Dare the thriller author.
Fog closed around him. Staring at where he’d been, my dogs raised their noses to test the air. Who had that been, and why had he been creeping around? I dashed up the hill to my patio, opened the sliding door, and grabbed a flashlight and the dogs’ leashes. Brianna’s music blared. The light on my phone showed she was still on the line. I didn’t hear her voice.
I went outside. Unnerved by that furtive person in the mist, I locked the door. My usually adventurous dogs had, for once, followed me up the hill. Had the person inching along the trail alarmed them? I snapped leashes onto their collars.
Pulling my strangely unwilling dogs behind me, I ran down the hill and out the gate to the trail. I couldn’t see anyone in the thick fog.
The river made eerie noises like monsters gulping and swallowing. My flashlight was almost useless in the white air, but when I aimed it down the middle of the trail, something near my fence caught my eye—a greenish strand undulating as if it were alive. The world’s longest glowworm? The dogs ignored the thing, but I went closer. I shined my light on it, and it went gray, but when I took the light away, the thing glowed again.
Glow-in-the-dark thread.
Slowly, I turned around. I caught glimpses of it near the fence going both up the river and down, the direction the slinking person had taken. I hadn’t noticed the thread ten minutes earlier when I’d been on my way home, but maybe its glow had worn out, and I’d regenerated it just now with my flashlight.
A scream pierced the fog.
A woman? I started downstream toward the sound, but my dogs were reluctant to do anything besides weave their leashes around my legs.
The woman screamed again.
With some confusion and not much help from Sally and Tally, I sorted us all out and we trotted down the trail toward the park.
In the fog ahead, a wavering glow separated itself from a larger, steadier glow on the hill and wobbled down the slope toward the river.
Sally and Tally became determined to investigate the steep riverbank. Pulling me with them, they veered off the trail and into the mud.
I planted my feet on the slippery slope and whispered their names. They charged up the bank. Tails down, they tried to lead me home.
Again, I untangled their leashes and forced them toward the park.
The smaller glow had gained speed on the downward slope. Metal wheels like casters clattered on concrete. The boat launch and the road to it were the only pavement in that part of the park.
Again, the dogs tried to take me home, but I gave them the hand signal for “stay.” Panting nervously, they leaned against my legs.
What was I seeing? The glowing thing on casters would have to be Edna’s wedding skirt. Could it be traveling downhill by itself? I ran, pulling my reluctant dogs with me.
The woman shrieked again. “Don’t push me! Don’t—”
The scream was bitten off.
The dogs instantly straightened their legs, an effective way of putting on their brakes, and mine, also. Whimpering, Tally-Ho again tried to lead us all home. “Sh,” I cautioned. Holding
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