Read Online Private 04 - Confessions by Kate Brian - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kate Brian
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more than Noelle. "In case you haven't heard, I haven't really been sleeping lately. Running calms me. So there you go. Now you've got all the facts. Enjoy." I was already halfway across the room when she spoke again. "You've been acting like a serious bitch lately," she said. I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "What are you gonna do, Noelle? Kidnap me again? Force me to do some stupid errand? Kick me out of Billings?" I looked her dead in the eye and, even though I didn't fully believe it myself, part of me very much wanted to say it. So I did. "Do whatever you want. I really don't care anymore." For once all three of them were stunned into silence.
BLAKE PEARSON
Dash had never been to the art cemetery before. As I sat on the one divan, fiddling nervously with the key he'd lifted from Josh's room to get us in here, he strolled along the walls, admiring the rows and rows of artwork by the dim light of the one lamp we had dared to turn on. He'd risked everything sneaking into Josh's police-taped dorm to get this thing, and later he'd have to risk it again to sneak it back in so that the cops wouldn't notice it was missing. Yet there he was, his hands clasped behind his back as he strolled, like he was checking out a new SoHo gallery, instead of waiting for his dead best friend's brother to show up under false pretenses he'd concocted, after which he'd have to go back to his dorm and break the law. Again.
"What if he doesn't come?" I asked. My heart was pounding in my bones. My skull throbbed.
My fingers were moist. I was a PingPong ball of nerves. He leaned in closer to an abstract painting, inspecting the signature. Infuriatingly composed. "He'll come." "But what if he doesn't?" I clutched the key. Let it cut into my palm. "What do we do next?" "Trust me. I know Blake Pearson." There was a slight laugh in his voice. "He'll come." "How can you be so calm?" I asked finally. "Meditative focus," he answered. "My older sister's kind of a New Age guru. Some of the stuff is actually useful." "Your sister. A New Age guru," I said. He turned to me and smiled. "Kind of the black sheep of the McCafferty clan." "I can only imagine." A door clicked out in the hallway. We both heard it. I got to my feet, my heart slamming against my rib cage. As the footsteps approached, I shoved my sweaty hands into the back pockets of my jeans and stood next to Dash. His size was comforting.
The door across the room opened. Blake Pearson stepped inside. He was different than I remembered him from Thomas's wake. He wore a casual sweater and coat and distressed jeans over hiking boots. His black hair was mussed and curled at the ends, which made his face look less thin. There was more color in his skin as well, but that could have been due to the extreme cold. He froze the moment he saw us, his blue eyes like ice picks. I looked up at Dash. Dash opened his mouth, and Blake turned to go. Just like that. Without a word.
"Wait!" Dash shouted. It was so loud I was sure the Easton security force was about to descend. But it had its desired effect. Blake stopped. Dash took the opportunity to cross the room and get between Blake and the door. "We just want to talk to you, man," Dash said, raising his hands.
"Oh really?" Blake said. "About what?" My heart shriveled and I had to gasp for air. His voice was exactly like Thomas's. I hadn't heard it in so many weeks, but I recognized it instantly. I backed up against the wall and blinked back the tears of shock. Pain. "What's wrong with her?" Blake asked, with a dismissive glance. "You all right?" Dash asked me. I managed to nod. "I'm fine. Go ... go ahead." "You're sure." Dash was always the gentleman.
"I'm fine," I repeated firmly. "All right. We know you were here that night, Blake," Dash said. "Why haven't you gone to the police and told them what you know?" Blake crossed his arms over his chest. "All right, McCafferty, I'll bite," he said. "What do I know?" "That Josh is innocent," Dash
BLAKE PEARSON
Dash had never been to the art cemetery before. As I sat on the one divan, fiddling nervously with the key he'd lifted from Josh's room to get us in here, he strolled along the walls, admiring the rows and rows of artwork by the dim light of the one lamp we had dared to turn on. He'd risked everything sneaking into Josh's police-taped dorm to get this thing, and later he'd have to risk it again to sneak it back in so that the cops wouldn't notice it was missing. Yet there he was, his hands clasped behind his back as he strolled, like he was checking out a new SoHo gallery, instead of waiting for his dead best friend's brother to show up under false pretenses he'd concocted, after which he'd have to go back to his dorm and break the law. Again.
"What if he doesn't come?" I asked. My heart was pounding in my bones. My skull throbbed.
My fingers were moist. I was a PingPong ball of nerves. He leaned in closer to an abstract painting, inspecting the signature. Infuriatingly composed. "He'll come." "But what if he doesn't?" I clutched the key. Let it cut into my palm. "What do we do next?" "Trust me. I know Blake Pearson." There was a slight laugh in his voice. "He'll come." "How can you be so calm?" I asked finally. "Meditative focus," he answered. "My older sister's kind of a New Age guru. Some of the stuff is actually useful." "Your sister. A New Age guru," I said. He turned to me and smiled. "Kind of the black sheep of the McCafferty clan." "I can only imagine." A door clicked out in the hallway. We both heard it. I got to my feet, my heart slamming against my rib cage. As the footsteps approached, I shoved my sweaty hands into the back pockets of my jeans and stood next to Dash. His size was comforting.
The door across the room opened. Blake Pearson stepped inside. He was different than I remembered him from Thomas's wake. He wore a casual sweater and coat and distressed jeans over hiking boots. His black hair was mussed and curled at the ends, which made his face look less thin. There was more color in his skin as well, but that could have been due to the extreme cold. He froze the moment he saw us, his blue eyes like ice picks. I looked up at Dash. Dash opened his mouth, and Blake turned to go. Just like that. Without a word.
"Wait!" Dash shouted. It was so loud I was sure the Easton security force was about to descend. But it had its desired effect. Blake stopped. Dash took the opportunity to cross the room and get between Blake and the door. "We just want to talk to you, man," Dash said, raising his hands.
"Oh really?" Blake said. "About what?" My heart shriveled and I had to gasp for air. His voice was exactly like Thomas's. I hadn't heard it in so many weeks, but I recognized it instantly. I backed up against the wall and blinked back the tears of shock. Pain. "What's wrong with her?" Blake asked, with a dismissive glance. "You all right?" Dash asked me. I managed to nod. "I'm fine. Go ... go ahead." "You're sure." Dash was always the gentleman.
"I'm fine," I repeated firmly. "All right. We know you were here that night, Blake," Dash said. "Why haven't you gone to the police and told them what you know?" Blake crossed his arms over his chest. "All right, McCafferty, I'll bite," he said. "What do I know?" "That Josh is innocent," Dash
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