Читать книгу Twilight Warrior - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 9
Prologue
ОглавлениеLaura Perry loved her life. The uncertainty and challenges of her career suited her perfectly. And leaving the FBI to become a private investigator for the largest and most prestigious firm in New Mexico allowed her to work alone and unencumbered. Just the way she liked.
Today, however, she was off the clock and on the way to visit with her childhood best friend, Nancy. They’d been as close as sisters during junior high, but had drifted apart in high school after Nancy had become the softball team’s leading pitcher. As playing and practicing began taking most of Nancy’s time, Laura had watched their friendship end, not with a bang but with a whimper.
Yet life, via the internet, had brought them together again. As they’d exchanged emails, the closeness they’d once shared had reappeared as quickly as a patch of clover on a warm spring morning. Their friendship had blossomed as a result.
Although they hadn’t seen each other in years, Laura had been looking forward to seeing Nancy again for weeks. Tonight, she’d spend the night at Nancy’s home outside Flagstaff, Arizona. They’d talk about old times and the new man in her friend’s life. Nancy had sounded head over heels in love in her emails.
Laura sighed. In that one way, she envied her friend. Love sure wasn’t in the cards for her.
Laura turned up a dirt road covered with dusty red gravel and pulled up to the chalet-style home. She removed her handgun from the glove compartment and quickly stuck it inside her jacket pocket. Even out here in this rural area she didn’t want to risk leaving it in the car.
“Hey, Nan! Anyone home?” Laura called out as she walked up the flagstone path leading to the half-open front door.
As Laura stepped across the threshold into the narrow foyer, the door suddenly swung toward her, slamming into her left shoulder. Thrown hard against the foyer wall, she hit her head and fell to her knees, dazed.
Laura heard footsteps coming up behind her and looked back. Backlighted by the glow of the moonlit sky beyond stood the dark outline of a man, his features covered in shadows.
“Nancy spoke a lot about you. That’s why I hung around. I was hoping to meet you. Too bad that you’re too late to help her—or yourself.”
As he raised his arm Laura saw the gleam of a nickel-plated revolver. She ducked left, yanking out her own revolver and firing.
The figure groaned and stumbled back onto the porch holding his shoulder. As he limped away into the night, he muttered, “We’ll meet again soon, Laura.”
The door slammed shut as she struggled to her feet. On the floor were fresh drops of blood, not hers. She’d hit the suspect but it hadn’t been enough to take him down.
She hurried back outside, but by then all she could see were taillights disappearing into the distance.
Taking a breath, she gathered her thoughts. Nancy! Laura ran back into the house, turning on lights as she went. A struggle had clearly taken place in the living room but she didn’t see any more blood.
“Nan?” she called out. There was no answer.
Laura noticed an acrid scent in the air. Alcohol? No, ether. Pistol out, she hurried into the bedroom, where the smell seemed most concentrated. There, she found her friend.
Laura stumbled back a step, senses reeling. Nancy was lying naked on the bed, a cord wrapped around her neck and a hand towel that reeked of ether beside her head.