In a Heartbeat. Rita Herron

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ and a picture of her father, sat on the table, one she’d clipped from the newspaper. He looked austere. Imposing. But he’d actually smiled, obviously primed because the article declared him a brilliant surgeon.

      He never smiled at her now. Since the trial, she was no longer daddy’s little girl. Although they occasionally spoke on the phone, conversations remained brief to prevent any tracing so she could remain hidden. Of course, they had argued long before William had entered her life. Her father’s goals for her had been different from her own. He wanted her to be a social star, she wanted none of the limelight.

      And she’d hated it even more when all the publicity about the trial had focused on her.

      Sure, she’d told herself she was healing.

      But this morning’s headlines, seeing Brad Booker again, knowing another woman was suffering as she had—the fear, the paranoia, the anger all came crashing back.

      How could she say that she was happy here when she refused to open the door to a neighbor? When the least little shadow or sound sent her skittering into near cardiac arrest?

      When she would choose to run and hide rather than help another woman escape the horrors she had experienced? What kind of coward was she?

      And how much more was she going to allow William to take from her?

      BRAD KILLED THE ENGINE. Although he needed to work the case, he wasn’t quite ready to head back to Atlanta. He phoned Ethan for an update, but they were still chasing leads. They desperately needed to find out where the killer had taken Mindy.

      Had Lisa remembered something that might help?

      How do you know this guy is using the same place to hide his victims? He could be anywhere.

      His stomach growled, adding to his irritation. He might as well grab something to eat before he faced the two-hour drive. The waitress glared at him as he entered the café, as if she’d seen Lisa running out, and wondered what he’d done to her. Great. Now everyone in Ellijay would probably think he was a bad guy.

      Hell, who was he kidding? They’d be right. He’d just thrown Lisa back into her nightmarish past.

      Besides, he couldn’t show the locals his credentials without revealing Lisa’s identity, something he’d sworn not to do.

      The diner was rustic, with knotty pine walls and plank flooring. Photographs of antique cars and local scenery hung along one wall, and a collection of antique farming tools filled a case in the corner. Checkered tablecloths and fresh daisies on each table gave the restaurant a homey feel, the smells of homemade vegetable soup and pies wafting through the air.

      He ordered a bowl of Brunswick stew and a glass of sweet iced tea, his gaze automatically scrutinizing each patron. Mostly old-timers. Three women wearing outdated Sunday dresses gathered at a round table eating coconut cream pie and sipping coffee. Two farmers conversed over the blue plate lunch special—meat loaf, green beans and mashed potatoes with gravy. A handful of teenagers stuffed into a booth laughed over their milkshakes and burgers. A real southern small town.

      Everyone appeared friendly, seemed to know one another. A safe place to raise a family. Nothing like the city, where psychos could hide among the masses.

      Yet was Lisa really safe here?

      Not if there had been an accomplice, or if this latest killer came looking for her.

      Brad finished the stew, paid the bill and headed back to his car, knowing the clock was ticking. He was just about to leave when his cell phone rang. He winced, then checked the display, bracing himself for bad news from his partner.

      A private number showed up, instead. “Brad Booker.”

      “It’s Lisa.”

      He closed his eyes, his gut knotting at the sound of her strained voice. “Are you all right?”

      A long sigh escaped her, heartfelt and labored but resigned. “Yes. Where are you?”

      One hand tightened around the steering wheel. “Getting ready to leave town.”

      “To go back to Atlanta?”

      “Yes.”

      A breathy quiver followed his reply, then she whispered, “I…I’m sorry, Brad.”

      He scraped a hand through his hair, the sweat-coated strands sticking to his fingers. God, why was she apologizing? She had every right to hate him. “Don’t, Lisa, it’s all right. I shouldn’t have come—”

      “No,” she said, her voice stronger, “you obviously care about this woman, she’s missing… I…I’ll help you if I can.”

      He heard her insinuations. She thought he and Mindy were involved. He should correct her. But why bother? He did care about saving Mindy. And he couldn’t get involved with Lisa.

      “Do you want me to come by?” he asked quietly. “We can talk.”

      A heartbeat passed, pulsing into a tension-filled minute.

      “No.”

      He chewed the inside of his cheek and fiddled with the radio. “All right. Call me if you need anything.”

      “Wait.” She hesitated again, then said, “I mean yes. Come over….”

      He scrubbed a hand over his face at the sound of the waver in her voice. She’d been crying. “Are you at the cabin?”

      “Yes.”

      He cranked the engine and shifted into gear. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

      He disconnected the phone and sped away from town, battling his own emotions. The reason he’d almost screwed up so badly before. He couldn’t repeat that mistake a second time. Mindy’s life was at stake.

      But Lisa’s soft anguished voice taunted him as he climbed the mountain.

      SHE WAS IN THE BOX AGAIN. She couldn’t breathe. The darkness was closing around her, choking her….

      Lisa caught her head between her hands, rocking herself back and forth, tears falling as the trembling continued.

      The wooden edges brushed her sides. Held her captive.

      It was dark. Hot. So hot the air felt like a furnace. And she was suffocating, her throat muscles clawing at the air for a breath.

      Then she was cold. Chilled and aching. Shaking uncontrollably.

      He had left her there all day. Hidden away as if she didn’t exist. Her cries had done nothing but elicit rage that he unleashed on her.

      Her battered body was too numb to move now. Or maybe it was the cramped position in the box. She’d long ago lost track of the time. Had she been here hours? Days?

      The panic that streaked through her wouldn’t dissipate. It ate at her, chewed at her nerve endings relentlessly. The air felt stifling. How much more of it was there?

      She СКАЧАТЬ