The Last Noel. Heather Graham
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Название: The Last Noel
Автор: Heather Graham
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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“They didn’t kidnap you, did they?” she asked.
He struggled to sit. “No. But, Kat—”
He broke off when he heard a sound, and turned to look as the door to the house opened. Scooter was there with two men. Craig squinted. Kat’s older brother and her father, he had to assume. “Kat.” He found the strength to grip her shoulders. “Someone’s coming—one of them. So if they really don’t know about you, you need to get the hell out of here. Do you understand me? Disappear.”
“You’re one of them.”
“No…not exactly. One of them hit me and—”
“One of them hit you?” she interrupted skeptically.
“Yes, and left me out here. Now get the hell out of here!”
The men were coming down the walk. She could see them now, Scooter, her father and Frazier.
“Craig, if you’re with them…”
“Please, Kat, I don’t know what they’ll do. Go for help.”
“Go for help?” she inquired. “I barely made it to the car in this wind. See the way they’re all hunched over against it? Where am I going to go, Craig? How the hell am I going to get help?”
Snowdrifts were everywhere. They were going to see her footprints, he thought, as the wind picked up, howling. Maybe the snow was blowing around enough to hide her footprints.
He roused and took hold of her shoulders again. He could see her eyes. Gold and emerald. His stomach lurched. She’d been the first really good thing in his life, and he had screwed it up. “I’m begging you to get out of here and find help before Scooter sees you.”
“There is no help, Craig.”
“Then hide somewhere.”
“Hide?” she asked indignantly. “They have my family. I can’t just run away and hide. Do you have a gun? If you have one, give it to me, damn it.”
“Kat, I don’t have a gun.”
“But you were with them.”
“Kat, I’m begging you, go!”
“Are you with them or not?”
“Kat, I…”
His head throbbed with pain and humiliation at the look in her eyes. If they caught her…Lord, if they caught her…He opened his eyes and looked up.
She was gone, vanished into the snow.
He prayed for the snow to fall faster, the wind to blow harder, to cover all traces of her escape.
Scooter and the others had nearly reached the car. The door she’d used was still open, and her prints were still obvious. With a desperate burst of strength, he dragged himself out of the car and let himself collapse into the snow, thrashing to cover her tracks, his thoughts tormenting him.
Once upon a time, he had lived in a different world. He’d been in love with a gorgeous redheaded coed. They’d saved money by eating in and watching old movies on television.
Bogie.
Bergman.
Casablanca.
Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world…
Run, Kat, run.
THREE
Everyone left in the kitchen stared at Quintin except for Uncle Paddy, who continued to eat without even looking up. “Ye’ve outdone yerself, lass,” he told Skyler. “This is delicious. Isn’t it—Quintin? That’s yer name, right?”
Quintin had been staring back at Skyler and Jamie, but now he turned his attention to Paddy. “Yes, it’s very good,” he said.
“Thank you,” Skyler said. Ridiculous. She was thanking a killer for complimenting her cooking. But they had to get through this somehow, and if being polite was what it would take, then she would be as polite as if she’d been valedictorian of a finishing school.
“You spend a lot of time cooking?” Quintin asked.
“Not really,” Skyler told him, and without thinking, started to rise. He tensed. “Sorry. I just thought I’d have a beer,” she said.
“I’ll have one while you’re up,” Quintin said.
“Hell, I’ll be joinin’ that party,” Paddy said.
Even Brenda spoke up. “Mrs. O’Boyle, I’d love a beer, too.”
“I’ll just grab a six-pack,” Skyler said. Poor Brenda. The girl was probably wishing herself miles and miles away right now.
She could have been with her own family. In fact, Frazier could have been with them, as well.
She was the reason they were here instead. She had subtly tried to make him feel guilty for even considering spending Christmas somewhere else. But, Frazier, you really should come while we still have the house. You know we’ll probably get rid of it soon, since there’s no sense keeping it now that you kids don’t really enjoy it anymore. Just this year…
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