Читать книгу The Devil's Footprints - Amanda Stevens - Страница 12

Six

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Adamant, Arkansas

Christmas Eve

The temperature dropped after dark and it had started to mist. Ashe shivered in his lightweight jacket as he glanced yet again over his shoulder, making sure he couldn’t be spotted.

An unnecessary precaution, because the house was on a two-acre lot at the end of the street. Even if the closest neighbors should glance outside, they would see only a shadow beneath the DeLaunes’ living room window.

Nor was there any need to worry about passing cars. The streets were deserted. He couldn’t see anything but the kaleidoscopic blur of twinkling lights in the distance. On Christmas Eve, the good citizens of Adamant were home celebrating with their families.

But the night was like any other to him. He felt nothing more than a fleeting twinge of regret that no one knew or cared how he spent his Christmas Eve. He didn’t dwell on his loneliness, because being invisible had its compensation.

Shrugging off the disquiet, he turned back to the window. It was nearly midnight. Everyone except Sarah’s father had gone up to bed, and he sat dozing in an easy chair in front of the fireplace. Blissfully unaware.

Earlier, the family had gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange presents. The window was open a crack to allow the smoke from the old man’s pipe to escape, and Ashe had been able to hear their voices so clearly it was almost as if he were a part of the celebration. He’d followed the conversation with avid fascination, even though his eyes had been riveted on Sarah.

Dressed in jeans and a pale yellow sweater, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, she’d sat cross-legged on the floor, opening her gifts with a brooding scowl that had irritated her father. The contrast between her sister’s girly squeals as she tore into one package after another had finally become too much for him.

“I’ve had enough of this.” He got up and strode over to Sarah, grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. “If you want to sit there and sulk, you can damn well do it in your room. You’re not going to ruin the evening for the rest of us.”

Her mother nervously rose to her feet. “James—”

“Stay out of this, Anna. I should have taken care of this at dinner when she was being so rude and aggressive with her sister. She’s an ungrateful little brat, and I’m not going to sit here and tolerate this surly behavior any longer.”

Still clutching her arm, he marched Sarah out of the room and up the stairs. He was gone for a long time, and when he came back, he looked flushed and angry.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Rachel asked softly.

He smiled, his anger melting when he looked at her. “I’m fine, princess, don’t you worry. I’ve got something that’ll make us both feel better.” He plucked a tiny package from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table beside his chair. “Come have a look.”

“Another present?” She gave a little laugh as she tore away the ribbon and paper with frenzied excitement. From Ashe’s place at the window, he saw a flash of fire from the open box before Rachel threw her arms around the old man’s neck. “Daddy! Diamonds? Are they real?”

“Of course they are. Would I give my princess anything but the real thing?”

“But I thought…Mama said I should wait until next year and get them for graduation.”

“And I say you should have them now.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you…thank you…thank you!” She planted a kiss on his cheek after each thank-you, then hugged him tightly. He clung to her for a moment before she got up and ran over to show her mother.

“Mama, look! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? Isn’t Daddy just the sweetest thing?”

Her mother murmured something Ashe couldn’t hear, and then she watched her oldest daughter gather up all her presents and rush upstairs to try on her new earrings.

After she was gone, Anna walked over to the fireplace. “Why didn’t you tell me about the earrings?”

“Since when do I need your permission to get my own daughter a gift?”

“Sarah’s your daughter, too, James. Why didn’t you give her something special?”

“Because it would have been a waste. Nothing we do is ever good enough for that girl.”

“That’s not true. She’s just going through a difficult stage. I wish you’d try to be a little more understanding—”

“A stage?” He gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t kid yourself, Anna. She’s always been like this. That girl has always had problems. She’s a liar and a thief, and I should have done something about it a long time ago.”

Sarah’s mother sat down on the hearth and folded her hands in her lap. “You’ve always been so hard on her.”

“She’s out of control and you damn well know it. I’m sick to death of dealing with her problems. I hate to think what she’ll be like in a few more years. I see kids like her come through my courtroom all the time. Something needs to be done, and soon, or we may all live to regret it. I’m beginning to think Lydia Mason was right. St. Stephen’s is the best place for a girl like Sarah.”

“I hardly think Lydia Mason is an expert on what’s best for our daughter. I can’t believe you took her to see that woman behind my back.”

“She’s the only therapist in town.”

“You could have talked to the counselor at school or consulted with someone in El Dorado. Why did it have to be her?”

“What’s really got your goat here, Anna? The prospect of sending your daughter away to school, or what Lydia might tell that preacher husband of hers about you? I know how highly you value his opinion.”

“This has nothing to do with Tim. I’m not sending Sarah away. I don’t care what anyone says. She’s only thirteen years old!”

“Will you calm down? It’s not like we’re abandoning her. St. Stephen’s is only an hour’s drive from here. You can visit her whenever you want.”

“I’ll never agree to this. She needs me.”

“And what about your other daughter? What about her needs? I swear to God, the way that girl looks at Rachel sometimes makes my blood run cold.”

“She resents Rachel because of the way you treat her. She knows Rachel is your favorite. Everyone knows it. You don’t even try to hide it.”

“Rachel is a beautiful young woman with a brilliant future ahead of her. I’m proud of her. Why should I have to hide it?”

Sarah’s mother stared down at her hands. “If I’d known it was going to be this way—”

“What would you have done differently?” he goaded. “Go on, say it.”

“She’s just a child. What I did is not her fault.”

“Maybe not. But I can’t help how I feel.”

“Yes, you can. Why won’t you just admit it? This isn’t about Sarah. It’s about punishing me.”

Ashe’s blood pumped fiercely as he watched Sarah’s mother rise and rush from the room. His curiosity was at a fevered pitch. He thought he knew everything about Sarah, but here was a new morsel, a secret that would need to be uncovered then studied and savored.

He returned his attention to Sarah’s father and felt something dark gathering inside him. The old man had no idea what waited for him as he stared broodingly into the flames.

After a while, he nodded off, and Ashe thought how easy it would be to slide up the window, slip into the house and take a stick of firewood to the old man’s skull. Or a knife to the thick, beefy neck. He could almost feel the warm blood spew over his hands, and for a moment, the desire was almost too much to resist.

But vengeance was worth waiting for and the time had to be right.

After all, the worst punishment wasn’t death. It was losing the thing prized above all else.

The Devil's Footprints

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