Read Online Obsession Falls by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christina Dodd
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report from the security firm. They would be worried. Then they would look around and realize their home was in good condition. They would decide the wind had blown the branch through the glass, make a claim with their insurance, and go on with their lives without being any the wiser.
At least, that was Taylor’s plan.
She went to the shed behind their garage, knelt on the small concrete pad in front of the door, and considered the padlock. According to the Internet site she had found, picking a padlock was easier than picking the lock in a door. Okay. She had patience, the correct tools—and her schedule just happened to be free.
She went to work. Forty-five painful, frustrating minutes later, the lock clicked open and she hooted with delight. She pushed the door open. The place was dark, filled with dust, cobwebs, plywood, and a lawn mower. Someone had placed a small flashlight on a shelf to the left of the door. She turned it on; the beam was strong and clear. She shone it around the shed.
Shoved in the corner, she found a collapsed one-man tent. She knelt and touched it with reverent fingers. She desperately needed this to keep the mosquitos away, to protect her from the snow when it fell, to give her the feeling of having a home. She missed that, having a home, more than she could imagine.
She could carry this size tent. She really could.
But why was it here? Did she dare take it? She hunted around for instructions; of course, they were nowhere to be found. So she quickly tried to put it together, and soon discovered one plastic support was broken. That made her pause and think. Possibly in the woods she could adapt a branch of the right length and strength … She would try it, and if that didn’t work, she would scrounge another plastic support from another tent in another house.
Already, she was making more plans to break and enter.
If she was going to live through this, that was what it would take.
She packed the tent into its carry bag and used a bungee cord to hook it to her backpack. She clicked off the flashlight and started to place it on its shelf, then hesitated. Flashlights got carried away from their intended position all the time. Perhaps no one would notice it was gone until spring … and her need was greater than the Renners’.
She left the same way she had come, clicking the padlock closed behind her, and climbed the ridge overlooking her family’s land. She seated herself, knees pulled up to her chest. She watched as the sun rose over the waving yellow grasses, the stands of trees, the herd of antelope grazing peacefully in the sun. She saw the earth come alive … and saw, too, the rise of dust as a pickup rolled up the long gravel driveway to the Renners’ front door.
The security technician. Good luck to him at finding the chewed-on wire.
When he had disappeared inside, she stood.
She ran her fingers through her hair one last time, fingered it lovingly, wistfully. Then with one hand, she gripped it tightly. In the other hand, she held scissors. Scissors she’d taken from the Renners’ kitchen drawer. She lifted her chin and she cut off her hair. She cut it off to within an inch of her scalp, then threw the strands into the air. The wind caught them and scattered them across the landscape and over her family’s ranch, obliterating the Taylor Summers she had been.
The new Taylor Summers moved on, into the mountains, determined to find herself a home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Moving swiftly, fiercely intent on staying ahead of the oncoming winter, Taylor searched for a protected place to establish her permanent camp.
She found a cave etched into a granite cliff, with a narrow mouth and a tunnel that went back twenty feet. The shelter seemed promising until she realized the smelly fur bundle in the corner held two dark glints that looked like eyes. Were eyes.
Taylor decided she could not spend the winter months with a bear and left at a great rate.
A day later, in a
At least, that was Taylor’s plan.
She went to the shed behind their garage, knelt on the small concrete pad in front of the door, and considered the padlock. According to the Internet site she had found, picking a padlock was easier than picking the lock in a door. Okay. She had patience, the correct tools—and her schedule just happened to be free.
She went to work. Forty-five painful, frustrating minutes later, the lock clicked open and she hooted with delight. She pushed the door open. The place was dark, filled with dust, cobwebs, plywood, and a lawn mower. Someone had placed a small flashlight on a shelf to the left of the door. She turned it on; the beam was strong and clear. She shone it around the shed.
Shoved in the corner, she found a collapsed one-man tent. She knelt and touched it with reverent fingers. She desperately needed this to keep the mosquitos away, to protect her from the snow when it fell, to give her the feeling of having a home. She missed that, having a home, more than she could imagine.
She could carry this size tent. She really could.
But why was it here? Did she dare take it? She hunted around for instructions; of course, they were nowhere to be found. So she quickly tried to put it together, and soon discovered one plastic support was broken. That made her pause and think. Possibly in the woods she could adapt a branch of the right length and strength … She would try it, and if that didn’t work, she would scrounge another plastic support from another tent in another house.
Already, she was making more plans to break and enter.
If she was going to live through this, that was what it would take.
She packed the tent into its carry bag and used a bungee cord to hook it to her backpack. She clicked off the flashlight and started to place it on its shelf, then hesitated. Flashlights got carried away from their intended position all the time. Perhaps no one would notice it was gone until spring … and her need was greater than the Renners’.
She left the same way she had come, clicking the padlock closed behind her, and climbed the ridge overlooking her family’s land. She seated herself, knees pulled up to her chest. She watched as the sun rose over the waving yellow grasses, the stands of trees, the herd of antelope grazing peacefully in the sun. She saw the earth come alive … and saw, too, the rise of dust as a pickup rolled up the long gravel driveway to the Renners’ front door.
The security technician. Good luck to him at finding the chewed-on wire.
When he had disappeared inside, she stood.
She ran her fingers through her hair one last time, fingered it lovingly, wistfully. Then with one hand, she gripped it tightly. In the other hand, she held scissors. Scissors she’d taken from the Renners’ kitchen drawer. She lifted her chin and she cut off her hair. She cut it off to within an inch of her scalp, then threw the strands into the air. The wind caught them and scattered them across the landscape and over her family’s ranch, obliterating the Taylor Summers she had been.
The new Taylor Summers moved on, into the mountains, determined to find herself a home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Moving swiftly, fiercely intent on staying ahead of the oncoming winter, Taylor searched for a protected place to establish her permanent camp.
She found a cave etched into a granite cliff, with a narrow mouth and a tunnel that went back twenty feet. The shelter seemed promising until she realized the smelly fur bundle in the corner held two dark glints that looked like eyes. Were eyes.
Taylor decided she could not spend the winter months with a bear and left at a great rate.
A day later, in a
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