Read Online Peek A Boo I See You (Emma Frost #5) by Willow Rose - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Willow Rose
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yelled. "I want meatballs NOW!"
"But sweetie…It's not ready. See, it needs to be cooked first." She took the meatballs and placed them in the pan, then set the timer. "There. Now we’ll know it's done when the bell rings, alright?"
Samuel's face turned red, his eyes pitch-black. Alexandra looked at the cutting board on the counter next to him. The knife was still on top of it.
"Samuel," she said. "Calm down. Remember what we talked about. You need to try and control that anger. Don't let it control you. Do you hear me?"
But it was too late. Samuel had gone to that place where she could no longer reach him. "Samuel, please."
She stared at the knife, then made a jump for it. But it was too late. Samuel picked it up right before she managed to grab it. Now he was standing in front of her with it held high in the air.
"I'm hungry NOW!" he yelled, then swung the knife at her and cut her arm. Alexandra shrieked and pulled back. Samuel walked towards her.
"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!" he yelled, while coming at her with the knife.
Alexandra screamed and, as he swung the knife at her again, she moved so he wouldn't hit her. Then she ran for the door, just as Poul came through it. She threw herself into his arms.
"What's going on here?" he asked.
"Take him away from here," she cried. "I don't care where you put him. Just get him out of my house!"
Behind her, she heard the knife drop to the floor. She turned and looked at Samuel. He had tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mommy," he said. Then he ran towards her and threw himself at her, trying to hug her. "I'm so sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to do it!"
Alexandra looked down at her bleeding arm, then up at Poul. He nodded, then walked over and grabbed the boy by the arms and dragged him out of the house, while Samuel pleaded for Alexandra to change her mind.
"I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry, Mommy!"
18
February 2014
" H OW ON EARTH WILL you raise enough money within two hours?"
Morten was looking at me like I was insane, which I probably was. But I was determined to help this poor guy and, hopefully, save him.
"First, we need to find out how much money they need," I said. "We need to talk to the local TV station and make an announcement as quickly as possible. Could you call City Hall and tell the politicians about the situation and then ask them how much is needed to keep the place open? Then, I'll talk to the journalists."
"Got it," Morten said, and grabbed his phone. "I have to alert the station as well."
"Do you have any IT guys who can try and trace this live stream?" I asked.
Morten shook his head. "We're just a small police station. We have people in Copenhagen. I can try and contact them."
"Do that," I said, and found my own phone. I found the local TV station's number on their webpage, then called them. I told them about the story briefly and how we had very little time, then persuaded them to do a special report, breaking news , and let everyone know to contact me if they wanted to donate. I put the phone down and looked at Morten.
"Do you have a number?"
"Five hundred thousand kroner," he said. "Five hundred thousand and they will keep the place open."
"They're closing the place because they're short five hundred thousand kroner? That's just silly. Can't they find that in their little budget?"
Morten rubbed his temples. "Apparently not."
"Well, I guess it was the neighbor's fear and narrow-mindedness after all, huh?" I said.
"I don't like to believe so, but you might be right."
I stared at the poor guy on my computer. He was still knocking frantically on the roof of the box. "Don't use up all your oxygen too fast, sweetie," I mumbled.
I had a knot in my stomach with worry. What if we didn't find him in time? It was such a long shot. Even if we managed to raise the money - which was highly unlikely, given we had less than two hours - then how were we going to find this guy? Would the killer let him go? Or did we
"But sweetie…It's not ready. See, it needs to be cooked first." She took the meatballs and placed them in the pan, then set the timer. "There. Now we’ll know it's done when the bell rings, alright?"
Samuel's face turned red, his eyes pitch-black. Alexandra looked at the cutting board on the counter next to him. The knife was still on top of it.
"Samuel," she said. "Calm down. Remember what we talked about. You need to try and control that anger. Don't let it control you. Do you hear me?"
But it was too late. Samuel had gone to that place where she could no longer reach him. "Samuel, please."
She stared at the knife, then made a jump for it. But it was too late. Samuel picked it up right before she managed to grab it. Now he was standing in front of her with it held high in the air.
"I'm hungry NOW!" he yelled, then swung the knife at her and cut her arm. Alexandra shrieked and pulled back. Samuel walked towards her.
"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!" he yelled, while coming at her with the knife.
Alexandra screamed and, as he swung the knife at her again, she moved so he wouldn't hit her. Then she ran for the door, just as Poul came through it. She threw herself into his arms.
"What's going on here?" he asked.
"Take him away from here," she cried. "I don't care where you put him. Just get him out of my house!"
Behind her, she heard the knife drop to the floor. She turned and looked at Samuel. He had tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mommy," he said. Then he ran towards her and threw himself at her, trying to hug her. "I'm so sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to do it!"
Alexandra looked down at her bleeding arm, then up at Poul. He nodded, then walked over and grabbed the boy by the arms and dragged him out of the house, while Samuel pleaded for Alexandra to change her mind.
"I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry, Mommy!"
18
February 2014
" H OW ON EARTH WILL you raise enough money within two hours?"
Morten was looking at me like I was insane, which I probably was. But I was determined to help this poor guy and, hopefully, save him.
"First, we need to find out how much money they need," I said. "We need to talk to the local TV station and make an announcement as quickly as possible. Could you call City Hall and tell the politicians about the situation and then ask them how much is needed to keep the place open? Then, I'll talk to the journalists."
"Got it," Morten said, and grabbed his phone. "I have to alert the station as well."
"Do you have any IT guys who can try and trace this live stream?" I asked.
Morten shook his head. "We're just a small police station. We have people in Copenhagen. I can try and contact them."
"Do that," I said, and found my own phone. I found the local TV station's number on their webpage, then called them. I told them about the story briefly and how we had very little time, then persuaded them to do a special report, breaking news , and let everyone know to contact me if they wanted to donate. I put the phone down and looked at Morten.
"Do you have a number?"
"Five hundred thousand kroner," he said. "Five hundred thousand and they will keep the place open."
"They're closing the place because they're short five hundred thousand kroner? That's just silly. Can't they find that in their little budget?"
Morten rubbed his temples. "Apparently not."
"Well, I guess it was the neighbor's fear and narrow-mindedness after all, huh?" I said.
"I don't like to believe so, but you might be right."
I stared at the poor guy on my computer. He was still knocking frantically on the roof of the box. "Don't use up all your oxygen too fast, sweetie," I mumbled.
I had a knot in my stomach with worry. What if we didn't find him in time? It was such a long shot. Even if we managed to raise the money - which was highly unlikely, given we had less than two hours - then how were we going to find this guy? Would the killer let him go? Or did we
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