Читать книгу Witness Pursuit - Hope White - Страница 13

FIVE

Cassie tossed and turned in bed. Couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t spent the night at the farmhouse in months. Being back here, staying in her old room, brought back memories of a darker time, a time when she felt weak and helpless.

As she glanced out the window at a familiar tree, memories rushed back, bringing with them the irrational and paralyzing fear of being stuck in bed for the rest of her life.

She hopped out of bed, put her fleece on over her pajamas and grabbed her phone. A sip of water would stop this line of thinking. It always had in the past.

Heading toward the stairs, the sound of voices drifted from the first floor. Her mom and Harvey were talking in the living room.

Cassie hesitated at the top of the stairs.

“You should try and go back to sleep,” Harvey said.

“I can’t. I keep thinking about my daughter finding a dead body. She must be traumatized,” her mom said.

“She’s a tough cookie, Margaret.”

“But she’s not talking about it, at least not to me. I don’t know what I ever did to put such distance between us. We were so close when she was a child.”

Cassie gripped the cherrywood railing. If only she could articulate how her mom’s overprotectiveness made Cassie feel like she couldn’t breathe. But she struggled to find the right words. She’d never want to come off as disrespectful, and she’d certainly never want to hurt Mom’s feelings.

“Kids go through awkward stages, then they grow out of it,” Harvey offered.

“Yeah, when they’re sixteen, not twenty-six,” her mom answered. “I wish she would open up. I could help.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to worry you.”

“Too late for that.”

A moment of silence, then, “How about some more coffee?” her mom offered.

“That would be great.”

“And cookies?”

“If you got ’em.”

“I always have cookies.”

Cassie could just imagine the wry smile playing across her mother’s lips. She was known as the “sweet queen,” the woman who baked every day, always trying out a new recipe.

Too bad Cassie didn’t inherit the baking gene. Her sister Bree seemed to get all the talent in that department.

Hearing her mom walk into the kitchen, Cassie decided to join Harvey in the living room. The sixtysomething former security manager, with a crewcut and kind blue eyes, had a grounding presence she appreciated. She went downstairs, and he looked up as she paused in the doorway.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head, entering the living room and flopping down in a chair.

“You’ve had quite the night,” he offered.

“No kidding.”

“You hanging in there?”

“Always do.” She offered a smile.

Suddenly the lights went out, plunging them into darkness.

“Harvey?” Mom’s concerned voice called.

He clicked on a small flashlight and pointed it toward the kitchen. “Probably the wind, Margaret. We’re coming to you.”

Just then his phone beeped with a text. The blue light illuminated his frown of concern as he read the message.

“What is it?” Cassie asked.

“Chief’s on his way. The suspect might know this address.” Harvey pulled a firearm out of his boot.

Panic stung the back of her throat. It wasn’t only her life being threatened, it was her mom’s life, as well—the nurturing, compassionate matriarch of the McBride clan.

“Should we call 911?” Cassie asked Harvey.

“Chief took care of it. Let’s get to your mom.”

The nearly full moon lit the house through the sheer curtains covering the windows.

As Cassie and Harvey went into the kitchen, her heartbeat quickened. This was where they’d found Aiden, bloodied and semiconscious after the break-in last year. When Cassie glanced up and noticed the pale look on her mom’s face, she shoved back the traumatic memory. She had to be strong.

“It’s okay,” Harvey said to her mom. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you ladies.”

The image of the dead woman in the Whispering Pines cabin flashed across Cassie’s mind. Shovel Man had no problem killing or trying to kidnap a witness from a public place.

A red light blinked on the panel beside the back door.

Someone had triggered the alarm.

It was a good thing the system was on a separate electrical circuit.

“He’s...someone’s trying to get in,” her mom said in a terrified voice.

Cassie put a comforting arm around her. “It’s okay. Police have been alerted and Harvey’s here. We need to stay calm.”

“Do you have a fire extinguisher?” Harvey said.

“Under the sink,” Mom said.

“We can use it to stun him.”

Cassie went to retrieve it. “Mom, get in the pantry.”

“What about you?”

Cassie had no intention of hiding while Harvey fought off the intruder by himself.

“We both won’t fit in there,” she said. “I’ll find another place.” Gripping the extinguisher, she led Mom to the pantry.

“There’s room for both of us,” her mom whispered.

“Try to keep quiet,” Cassie whispered.

“But—”

“Mom, please, I know what I’m doing.” Cassie gently shoved her mom into the pantry, then shut and locked the door. She had to; she wouldn’t risk Mom popping out during a dangerous encounter. Her parents had put the lock on the outside of the door, out of reach of the kids so they couldn’t raid the cookie jar.

Cassie dreaded the lecture she’d get when this was over, but Mom was safe. That’s what mattered.

Harvey nodded at an antique oak credenza beside the door leading to the living room. “Help me push this into the doorway.”

It was a good plan, Cassie thought. By blocking the door between the kitchen and living room, the intruder could get to them only through the back of the house.

And they’d be ready.

The credenza firmly in place, Harvey motioned for Cassie to get on the opposite side of the back door, out of view. She crouched beside the kitchen cabinets, clutching the extinguisher to her chest.

“What if this is just a blown fuse?” she said.

“That’d be okay with me,” Harvey answered. “But I don’t believe in coincidences. You sure you won’t go into the pantry with your mom?”

“I’m sure.”

“Trying to prove how tough you are, huh?”

“Not proving anything. But I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Then you’re the only one,” Cassie said, noticing how their voices had grown softer in pitch as they spoke.

A few seconds of silence stretched between them. She thought she heard the echo of a police siren, but it was probably wishful thinking.

She glanced down at the vinyl flooring. Even in the darkness, the moonlight illuminated a mark on the floor Aiden’s football cleats had made years ago.

A mark she had fixated on when he’d been attacked and wounded last year.

“Hear that?” Harvey whispered.

Cassie took a deep, calming breath and focused.

Wooden boards creaked on the porch just outside the kitchen. Someone approached the back door.

Please, God, give me courage.

Creak, creak...

The door handle rattled.

Cassie took another deep breath and removed the pin on the extinguisher. A crash made her shoulders jerk. Mom really needed to replace the multipaned door.

Scratching echoed across the kitchen. The intruder was trying to unlock the door, but that wasn’t happening since it was the kind you locked with a key from the inside.

Another crash echoed through the kitchen. The guy had broken the window above the sink, probably in search of another way inside.

“I know you’re in there,” he said. “Tell me what you did with it and I’ll leave you alone.”

What she did with what?

Cursing under his breath, the intruder smashed all the kitchen windows. Was he going to climb into the house?

Right above Cassie’s hiding spot?

Harvey grabbed her, protectively shoving her behind him.

Shovel Man popped his head through the window.

Harvey aimed his weapon. “I wouldn’t.”

The shrill sound of sirens echoed in the distance.

The guy retreated. Footsteps pounded across the porch. She waited a good few minutes before speaking. “Think he’s gone?”

“Probably. But we’ll stay here until help arrives.”