The Secrets of Rosa Lee. Jodi Thomas

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ of him had been an act for so long, he wasn’t sure there was any real left in him. Some days he thought that when he died no one would bother with a funeral. They’d just roll the credits.

      He turned Sidney’s hand over in his. She was real tonight. Her hand was soft, well formed with short nails and no polish. She would be a no-nonsense woman. The kind who would have nothing to do with him.

      “So, Sidney, how was your day?” he whispered, just because it sounded so normal. “I’ve been worried about you.”

      Her lashes moved. Blue eyes stared up at him. “You still here?”

      “Just waiting to take you to dinner.”

      “I’m ready to leave. Is it raining?”

      He hadn’t noticed, but rain did tap against the hospital window so softly it blended with the hum and click of the machines around her bed.

      “I’m afraid so.” He smiled. “But don’t worry, I’ll see you don’t get wet.”

      “I’m not fragile,” she whispered, closing her eyes once more.

      Sloan grinned and leaned closer. “I’d never have guessed you were.”

      Her breathing slowed as it brushed his cheek. There was something so intimate about the act, almost as if they were lovers who moved near in sleep and were unaware their breath mingled.

      Sloan straightened, surprised at his own thoughts. He didn’t need to get personally involved with any of the committee. He’d come to check on her, nothing more. Maybe it was because she looked so vulnerable in sleep. Maybe it was because they were really talking. Hell, maybe this job was getting to him.

      He should leave. But he hesitated. Not because he needed to know more or thought she might still be in danger.

      He simply didn’t want to turn loose of her hand.

      Eight

      Lora Whitman pulled Billy Hatcher’s old car around to the back of the Altman house and shoved it into Park. “You sure you want to leave your Mustang here?”

      Billy stretched. He’d been asleep most of the way back from Wichita Falls. “Sure,” he mumbled as he pushed hair from his eyes. “It’s as good a place as any. Safer than in front of my old man’s house.”

      She didn’t comment on why he wanted to return to the old place. Maybe, like her, seeing the damage one more time made what had happened to them seem real.

      “What time is it anyway?”

      Lora rubbed the back of her neck. “About ten, I guess. Maybe a little later.”

      “I could drive you home, if you like,” he said almost as an afterthought. “From the sound of that thunder we might get more rain.” He closed and unclosed his bandaged hand.

      “I don’t mind if I get wet. After today, what could a little water hurt?” She unbuckled her safety belt. “How about walking me halfway? Maybe it will help me relax. I feel like lightning is dancing in me. I’ll never be able to sleep after all the excitement. Which doesn’t seem to be your problem.”

      He grinned. “I can sleep anywhere and usually do.”

      She wished they had talked on the drive back. Billy Hatcher wasn’t as frightening as she’d first thought. At dinner they’d shared an unusual conversation. Most folks felt a need to keep up small talk, follow one theme, let the discussion rock back and forth. No such rules bound Billy. He spoke his mind. In a way, it was the most honest dialogue she’d ever exchanged.

      “Fair enough. We’ll walk.” He opened his door. “Thanks for the barbecue, and for driving.”

      She was glad he didn’t add, “because my hand hurts.” She noticed him cradling it every chance he got. The cuts ran deep enough to be painful, but to her surprise, she noticed he refused painkillers.

      “No problem.” She climbed out and caught up with him. “I wish half the new cars on our lot drove as smooth as this old Mustang.”

      “Yeah. The sheriff sold it to me a few years ago when he bought his wife a new car. The engine was fine. All I had to do was work on the body.”

      She took his arm to steady her steps as they rounded the back porch of Rosa Lee’s old house. Piles of tumble-weeds, broken branches and trash mounded at the corner of the porch. The blackness was almost complete at the side of the house except for faraway flashes of lightning above them.

      Lora wasn’t afraid, but tightened her grip, fearing she might trip over something in the dark.

      “Don’t worry,” Billy whispered. “There’s not that much to fall over back here except your panty hose.”

      She laughed and relaxed a little. “I was just holding on to you in case you’re afraid of the ghost that hangs around this place.”

      “I’ve never been afraid of ghosts. Never seen one wield a belt, or crash a car, or slug anyone. If you ask me it’s the living who walk this earth we need to worry about, not the dead.”

      “You’re probably right.”

      When they passed the side of the house where vines draped most of the windows, he slowed. “Did you see that?”

      “What?”

      “I thought I saw a light flicker inside the house.”

      “You’d better not be trying to frighten me.” She glanced over his shoulder at the window. A light blinked only a fraction of a second and was gone.

      He stopped. His arm locked her hand against him, tugging her closer. “You see that?”

      “Yes.” She reached in her purse for her cell. “I’m calling the sheriff.”

      He pushed her into the vines as they watched the pinpoint of light moving slowly across the room.

      It blinked again near the front door. Lora couldn’t breathe. The good news was that whoever haunted the house seemed to be leaving. The bad news was it was coming outside with them. Visions flashed in her imagination of a battle in blackness against a monster they couldn’t see. She would swing wildly, fighting for her life. So would Billy. In the morning, the sheriff would find them both dead. By accident, they’d murdered one another. They’d probably have to wait until a crime-scene photographer came in from Wichita Falls. By then, everyone in town would see her bloody body lying in the mud with vines twisted in her hair and her skirt up. Her mother would be horrified.

      “Let’s follow them.” Billy pulled her forward.

      Lora wanted to scream, “Are you kidding?” But yelling would only attract the trespassers. All she managed was a quick nod. She had no wish to trail anyone, but he wasn’t leaving her here alone in the vines with creatures already nibbling at her bare ankles.

      Billy’s undamaged hand slid down to hers as they moved around the corner of the house.

      She heard footsteps hurrying across the boards of the front porch. Then a СКАЧАТЬ