Читать книгу Just Try to Stop Me - Gregg Olsen - Страница 16

CHAPTER SEVEN

The image was dark. So dark that it would be doubtful just how much enhancement any decent tech lab could manage. The woman’s voice sputtered a few times, dipping in and out of what could be heard and what someone might imagine.

“It’s me. Janie Thomas. I’m the superintendent of the Washington Corrections Center for Women, in Gig Harbor, Washington. I know that what I’m about to say will find little sympathy among some—if anyone sees or hears my message. I made a terrible mistake. Don’t even know how things went so wrong. Brenda Nevins has me. She’s made me do some terrible things. Really the worst things that a human can do to another, I did it. I’m so very, very sorry. I thought she loved me. I still think she might. But I also know there’s something tremendously wrong with her. She’s not normal. She’s not like other people. She has an on-and-off switch that she alone controls. I really thought that I could help her and by the same token, she could help me. I was wrong. I have blood on my hands. I’ve done things that I would never have thought possible, things for which I will need to atone for the rest of my life. I’m sorry, Erwin. I’m sorry, Joe. God knows that what I’ve done has hurt you both. Forgive me. Erwin, I forgive you for the affair with Sandy. I wasn’t there. I know that now.”

Again, some movement of the device and another short pause.

“She’s in the shower. She’ll be out in a minute. I don’t know where we are. She drugged me. I swear she did. Wherever we are, we have no cell service. Not at all. I’m recording this with the hope that I’ll find a way to upload when we move locations again. Tonight, I think. She’s coming now. She’s crazy. She’s dangerous. I love her.”

In the background, Brenda’s voice is heard.

“What in the hell are you doing now, Janie? God, I can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

“I wasn’t doing anything, Brenda.”

“Give me that.”

“What?”

“Give it to me!”

“Brenda, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You ungrateful bitch, you’ve been calling someone, haven’t you? Give me the phone.”

“You’re hurting me.”

“Ask if I care, you idiot.”

“I love you, Brenda.”

“You don’t know what love is, you stupid bitch. You make me sick. You’ve betrayed me, and I want to know who you’ve called.”

“I didn’t call anyone!”

Brenda’s face appeared on the black screen of the video, filling it with her beautiful, but menacing eyes. She blinked. She looked away, presumably in the direction of Janie Thomas.

“Made a video, huh? Aren’t you the clever one, Janie? I never knew you had any aptitude for multimedia. I think I’ll watch your little video to see what you’ve said.”

“I was just playing around, Brenda, honest,” Janie said. “Don’t bother.”

A long pause.

Brenda pointed the camera over to Janie, who appeared to be cowering on the bed. The bedspread was a solid blue without the benefit of a pattern to provide any clues as to where the taping had taken place. The framing of the shot was so tight that even the headboard had been cropped out.

“I’ll decide just what you were doing,” Brenda said, “and I’ll also decide what I’m going to do about it.”

The video went black.