Read Online Save Me: A dark romantic thriller (Novel) by John Meany - Free Book Online

moistened eyes. “I’d return all that insurance money right now though, Peter, if I could have you back. I could never replace you. Nothing can. Nothing or no one.”
    As she listened to the leaves of the trees swooshing in the light breeze, a gravedigger suddenly lured Ashley’s attention.
    He stood about forty yards away near a big mound of recently dug soil. The man had white hair, a white beard, and a pudgy gut that wobbled like a bowl of Jell-O. His pale t-shirt had stains on it from both sweat and dirt. Ashley also noticed that the gravedigger had a cigar in his mouth. She could smell the smoke. It reminded her of a tobacco shop.
    Now while the grave digger used his shovel to finish excavating what would soon be someone‘s final resting ground, he glanced at Ashley.
    She did not know why, but this guy scared her. In all of the times Ashley had come to the cemetery, she had never seen this person before. Or for that matter, any grave digger.
    Ignoring him, she went back to conversing with Peter‘s tombstone: “I think your parents are finally coming around. I know I already told you that, Peter, the last time I was here, yet I really think it’s true. I feel one day soon your folks and I will become genuine friends . . . I truly believe they want to become apart of Kimberly’s life. The last time I talked to them, you would have been surprised. They made me put the baby on the phone, and there was your father saying ‘Goo goo gaa ga. Is that my granddaughter?’ I couldn‘t believe it.”
    Why did it often take misfortune to make people realize what was truly important in life? If Ashley hadn’t been raped, Brad and Teri Ferguson would have still been treating her like garbage.
    Before she had a chance to finish her thought, something behind Ashley distracted her: the sound of someone coughing. Once more, it was the grave digger. He had stopped what he was doing. Now he stood in the shade of sycamore tree. His eyes were glued to Ashley. As mucky sweat dripped from the old-timer’s forehead, he extracted, from his breast pocket, a match. He then produced a flame and rekindled his cigar.
    What happened after that almost compelled Ashley to scream.
    The gravedigger, as if by supernatural influence, began to physically transform into the evil rapist Craig Elliot. The white stubble on his chin magically darkened, became a full-grown black beard. The wrinkles near his eyes and mouth vanished, his chubby body thinned. Now the gravedigger looked exactly the way Ashley had remembered Craig Elliot from field when the flashlight had momentarily lit up his face, and also from the police photographs. Like Charles Mansion.
    Still staring in her direction, the bearded man picked up the shovel and then started to walk toward Peter‘s plot. A noisy swarm of flies buzzed near his head. Hello Christina , he spoke, while exhaling cigar smoke. Nice to see you again. We don’t get too many visitors here in the land of the dead. Are you coming to join us ?
    “What do you want from me?” Ashley demanded, feeling her knees sink. “Just go away! You can’t be real? You just can’t be real. It’s impossible!”
    With the shovel, Craig pointed to the ditch he had dug. Do you like that spot? I know it’s not right next to your hubby’s grave. But at least it’s in the same bone yard. Ha! Ha! Ha! He looked around, admiring the many stones and crosses. And what a peaceful bone yard it is. You’d do yourself proud to be buried here .
    Paranoid, Ashley suddenly lunged toward this, ghost, apparition, whatever it was, and then yanked the rusty shovel from its hand. “I won’t let you hurt me again!” she hollered, swinging the shovel at Craig Elliot’s head. She missed by about five of six inches.
    “Young lady! Get a hold of yourself. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know if you knew the time.”
    Now what Ashley observed standing in front of her was no longer her attacker. Rather, it was merely a meek old man