The Good Girl. Christy Barritt

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ eyes open, and the stark-white room came into focus. It was empty. No spooky ghouls or unwanted visitors were staring at me from the foot of the bed.

      The clock on the nightstand read 12:28.

      I tried to relax against the mattress. When would I ever get over this childhood fear? I turned over, dug my head into the fluffy, feather pillow, and searched for the sleep that felt so elusive.

      Metal clanged outside.

      I tensed and gripped the covers. Was it just my imagination? No. This wasn’t my imagination. Something clicked and squeaked and groaned.

      I sucked in a deep breath. I knew exactly what the noise was. It was the rusty gate leading into Lana’s backyard. I’d heard it earlier in the day when I’d let Gaga outside. I distinctly remembered fastening the stubborn thing. Someone was either going into or coming from my backyard.

      Logic told me to peek out the window. Fear told me to freeze. Fear won.

      Why would someone be entering or leaving the backyard at 12:30? Why would someone be going into the backyard at all?

      I forced myself to practice yoga breathing for calm. There had to be an explanation. Maybe Cooper’s little boy had tossed a toy into the yard and Cooper was going to retrieve it. That made sense.

      But not at this hour.

      Maybe he’d thrown something into the yard earlier and Cooper just now found the time to get it.

      I convinced myself it was a plausible possibility. Tomorrow, I’d ask Cooper and he’d explain it. Then we’d have a good laugh. I’d chide myself for being so silly.

      I pulled the covers tighter, listening for any more telltale sounds. It was silent. Shivers attacked my limbs as the note continued haunting me.

      I’m still here.

      Who? I wondered. Who was still here?

      Would I live to find out the answer?

      Chapter 5

      Lying in bed the next morning, I watched as gray turned to orange outside. The tropical colors eventually morphed into a hazy, lazy white. I remained under the covers, wishing I’d doze off again.

      My head felt as if it were stuffed with tiny lead beads. When I’d finally drifted off to sleep, somewhere around 2:30, Gaga had jumped in bed with me. Of course, I’d thought it was an attacker. My heart raced for the rest of the night, yet some invisible chain had kept me in bed and unable to move.

      I glanced around Lana’s room again. The white did look pleasant in the sunlight. In the daytime, everything seemed so much friendlier and my fears seemed so unfounded. Still, there was the butcher knife, the note, the supposed ectoplasm, and the squeaky gate. Add that to my already-in-place fears, and I was done for.

      Gaga barked at my feet. “What? You need to go outside?”

      She barked again. I threw on some shorts and a robe and followed Gaga to the backdoor. The morning sunlight looked so glorious that I couldn’t resist stepping outside.

      My gaze meandered over the grass and patio set and garage. My perusal skidded to a halt when I saw the gate. The open gate. The noises last night hadn’t been my imagination. Someone really had been in the backyard. A shiver zinged up my spine.

      I walked barefoot down the brick sidewalk and closed the gate, thankful I’d followed the dog outside. Otherwise, Gaga might have run away and Lana would never forgive me. Sure, my sister acted like the dog was an accessory half of the time, hauling her around in rhinestone-studded bags and buying her designer clothing. Sometimes I thought Paris Hilton was her role model. But I did think that deep inside, the dog was Lana’s baby. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left me a note, asking me to tell Gaga a bedtime story every night—not that I would ever actually do that.

      I had closed the gate yesterday, hadn’t I? I stared at the latch, remembering how difficult it was to force down. Yes, I’d definitely closed it.

      And some ghost had opened it while I was sleeping.

      “Good morning.”

      I half-gasped, half-screamed and threw myself back toward the house. My foot landed on a sharp rock in the process. I grabbed it, rubbing the indention. When I looked up, Cooper stared at me from the fence, amusement dancing in his eyes.

      “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

      “You didn’t,” I started. I dropped my foot and shook my head. “Well, you did, but not by any fault of your own.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

      I nodded and pulled the robe closer. Though I was wearing shorts and a tank top, I felt exposed. “Fine. You?”

      “Just enjoying some coffee and watching the sunrise.”

      “You’re an early riser, huh?” When I stepped outside, it had been nine a.m. The sun probably rose three hours ago, at least.

      “It’s ingrained from my days as an Army Ranger.”

      I nodded. “You seem like a special ops guy.”

      “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Cooper raised his chunky blue mug to his lips and took a sip. I needed some coffee, I realized. As soon as possible, for that matter. It was my wonder drug, just as addictive as all those other substances I’d cautioned those younger than myself to stay away from. My urge to pump some caffeine into my system nearly had me plotting to snatch away Cooper’s to take a sip. A good girl would never, ever do something like that, though, as per rule number 41. We’d just fantasize about it instead.

      Cooper tilted his head, his eyes still twinkling.

      “A little of both,” I finally answered.

      He chuckled. “At least you’re honest.”

      I pulled my arms over my chest and drank in the fresh morning air. “Nice neighborhood. You said there’d been some break-ins?”

      “A few, which is unusual for this area. I’ve always felt safe. I know you might have a totally different impression based on your start here. That’s generous that you can dog sit for your sister. Your job must be very forgiving.”

      If he only knew. “That’s the nice part about having the summer off from teaching.” It was true. I was a teacher, and I did have the summer off. But I’d also been fired prior to that. I cleared my throat. “How about you? What do you do for a living?”

      “I’m a security systems analyst. I test out security systems to see if they’re as solid as they claim to be.”

      “Sounds interesting.”

      He smiled. “I enjoy it.”

      I cleared my throat, knowing I needed to ask him something that might make me sound like a lunatic. I decided to ask anyway. “You didn’t go in my backyard last night, did you? Like at midnight or a little past?”

      “I try not to make it a point to СКАЧАТЬ