Read Online One Last Scream by Kevin O'Brien - Free Book Online Page B

Those were the only things he knew how to cook. She remembered how she’d wake up to the smell of his cooking—and the feel of his soft flannel robe covering her. Sheila had brought him another robe years ago, a blue terry-cloth which he’d taken to the rest home with him. But the old plaid flannel robe still hung in his closet, and Karen sometimes still used it to cover herself when she took a late-afternoon nap.
    She gazed at her father in his hospital-style bed and began to cry. She’d been miserable throughout most of her high school years. But now she missed that time—and she missed her father. Wiping her eyes, Karen bent over and kissed his forehead. “See you tomorrow, Poppy,” she whispered, though she knew he couldn’t hear her.
    Stepping out of the room, she wiped her eyes again and peered down the hallway. She spotted Amelia—at least she thought it was Amelia. The young, pretty brunette at the end of the corridor locked eyes with her for only a second. Then she turned and disappeared around the corner.
     
     
     
    As he dialed the number for Helene Sumner in Wenatchee, George felt like a fool. He was overreacting. He’d let Amelia’s weird premonition get to him. So Ina had promised to call this morning, and didn’t. Big deal. She’d broken promises before. This wasn’t the first time. Mark, Jenna, and Ina had probably decided to drive someplace else for breakfast. Or maybe they’d eaten at the house, then went hiking and lost track of the time.
    Yet here he was, about to ask this old lady to schlep a quarter mile down the lake and check on his wife and in-laws. He listened to the first ring tone. Through the living room window’s sheer drapes, he could see the kids still playing with Jody’s friend.
    “Yes, hello?” the woman answered on the other end of the line. She sounded frazzled.
    “Hello. Is this Helene?”
    “Yes. Is this the police? I thought someone would be here by now.”
    “No, this isn’t the police,” George replied, bewildered. “I’m calling from Seattle. Your neighbors down the lake, Mark and Jenna Faraday, they’re my in-laws. My name’s—”
    “They’re dead,” the woman cried, cutting him off. “He shot the two women, and then himself….”
    George felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Swallowing hard, he caught another glance of his children playing on the front lawn. Stephanie let out a loud scream and then laughed about something.
    “I called the police twenty minutes ago,” the woman said in a shaky voice. “They still aren’t here yet. God, I still can’t believe it. But I was in the house. I saw their bodies—and the blood. They’re dead, they’re all dead….”

 
Chapter Five
     
     
    Salem, Oregon—1996
    Twenty-six-year-old Lauren Tully felt like the walking dead. The pretty, slightly plump brunette worked as a paralegal, and she’d just helped her boss finish up the Bensinger complaint. They’d toiled over the case all week, right up until 9:15 tonight. Her boss would file it in the morning, and said she could take the day off, thank God.
    Now that she was outside, Lauren realized what a gorgeous day she’d missed, buried in her cubicle. It was one of those warm, balmy late-June nights. She hadn’t had dinner yet, so she’d swung by Guji’s Deli Stop on her way home. The four-aisle store was in a minimall, along with a hair salon, a Radio Shack, some teriyaki joint, and a real estate office, all of which were closed at this hour. Guji’s was the only lit storefront. They closed at ten. There weren’t many customers, and the parking lot was practically empty. Lauren picked up a frozen pizza, some wine, and—what the hell, she deserved it—a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. She was coming out of the store when she noticed something a bit strange.
    “Damn it!” the man yelled. “I’m sorry, honey. Daddy didn’t mean to swear.”
    His minivan was parked over by the Dumpsters, near