Dark Hearts. Sharon Sala

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ it goin’?” she mumbled.

      Since he guessed that was her standard greeting, he didn’t bother answering.

      One quick scan of the fried food inside the deli case was all it took to send him on the hunt for something with a longer shelf life, which turned into sweets. He chose a box of doughnuts and a honey bun, and then got a large coffee to go before going to the register to pay.

      “Will that be all?” the clerk asked, still focused on her phone.

      Sam reached across the register and laid his hand over the phone.

      “Ring me up, please,” he said softly.

      There was a frown on her face as she looked up. The look in his eyes startled her, and she quickly totaled his purchases.

      He paid her with cash, waited for his change and then walked out, drinking the coffee as he went. It was too strong and bitter as hell, but it served the purpose, and slowly his belly began to settle.

      He put the food in the SUV and began to refuel. As he did, he glanced at his watch. Almost 5:00 p.m. Even though it would be dark soon he was driving straight through. On a good day, the trip was at least an eight-hour drive, but driving in the mountains in the dark was going to slow him down. Still, it didn’t matter. No matter where he was, he wouldn’t be sleeping.

      Once the gas tank was full, he got back inside and called Trey to check in.

      His brother answered on the second ring. “Hey, Sam, where are you?”

      “About two hours closer to you than I was when I started. Is there any word on Trina?”

      “No. She’s been in surgery a little over an hour and a half. I’ll call when I know something, I promise.”

      “Would you do me a favor?” Sam asked.

      “Sure,” Trey said. “What do you need?”

      “Get me a room at Grant’s Motel.”

      “It burned down six years ago,” Trey said.

      “Well, hell. Is there another one?”

      “Yes, but you could stay at the farm.”

      Sam’s voice had a don’t-argue tone.

      “No, I can’t stay at the farm. I wouldn’t go home when Mom was still alive, and I’m not going back there now. I’ll take the motel, please.”

      Trey took the cue not to argue.

      “I’ll give them a call. It’s at the north end of Main.”

      “Thanks. I’ll drop off my stuff as soon as I get in, and then see you at the hospital.”

      “Okay,” Trey said, and then added, “Hey, brother.”

      “Yeah?”

      “It will be good to see you again.”

      Sam sighed. He felt like crying.

      “It will be good to see you, too,” he said.

      He disconnected, opened the box of doughnuts and then started the car. He took a bite out of the first doughnut as he was driving away. It was the first of three he would eat before he ran out of coffee to wash them down.

      * * *

      Rita Porter was pouring herself a drink when her husband, Will, came in the back door. Startled by his sudden appearance, she jumped as if she’d been shot and dropped the glass into the sink. Booze and glass went everywhere.

      “Now look what you made me do!” she screeched, and then staggered toward the utility room.

      Will wanted to strangle her. He had a very short time in which to declare himself a candidate for the state superintendent’s job, and everything in his life was going to hell in a handbasket. He wished Rita to hell, too, and headed for his office, picking up the mail from the front hall table on the way and leaving her to clean up the mess.

      But Rita wasn’t finished with him. She came back, and then followed him all the way through the house carrying the broom and dustpan.

      “I guess you heard about the Jakeses,” she said.

      Will turned around, still holding the stack of mail in one hand and a paperweight from his desk in the other.

      “Everybody in town is talking about it, so yes, I heard.”

      Rita kept staring without saying a word.

      “What?” Will snapped.

      She shrugged. “I was just wondering. You graduated with all three murder victims.”

      His frown deepened. “Yes, and your point is...?”

      “I don’t know. Just wondered if you knew anything about what’s happening.”

      A wave of rage shot through him so fast he threw the paperweight straight at her, missing her head by inches.

      She shrieked.

      “You nearly hit me! What are you trying to do? Kill me? That’s it, isn’t it? You wish I was dead.”

      Will glared, so angry he was shaking.

      “What I wish is that you weren’t a fucking drunk. That’s what I wish. Now go clean up that broken glass and whiskey before you pass out. I don’t want to have to clean up another one of the messes you make on your drunken binges.”

      She screamed, then threw the broom and dustpan at him, and ran to their bedroom, stumbling and bawling all the way.

      “Damn it all to hell,” Will said, and then sighed.

      He took off his suit coat, rolled up his sleeves and took the broom and dustpan with him as he headed for the kitchen.

      “Damn bitch. I wish she was dead, all right. I just don’t want to be the one accused of doing it.”

      * * *

      Greg Standish entered the bank through the back entrance and slipped into his office unnoticed. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now. In fact, he was thinking of all the ways he could fake his death and disappear. His life and his dreams were pretty much over, and if that wasn’t enough, between his wife, Gloria, and his daughter, Carly, he was bordering on bankrupt. Once the directors got wind of his situation he would be out of a job, and then that would be that.

      He saw a cop car go flying past and frowned. So the last survivor from that wreck was gone. He heard Trey found his mom. And Trina. He couldn’t believe she was still alive after being shot at point-blank range. His eyes narrowed. He’d never given much thought to dying, and now he was wondering if it hurt.

      * * *

      T. J. Silver was in the game room playing “Call of Duty” on his СКАЧАТЬ