Читать книгу The Man On The Cliff - Janice Macdonald - Страница 2

A car’s yellow hazard lights drew close, fog curling around the lamps like ghostly ballerinas. Out on the footpath, Kate saw two figures. A moment passed, and the smaller of the two broke away and began to run. The tall one followed in swift pursuit, both moving, wraithlike, in and out of the fog. When it cleared again, she saw only the larger figure, motionless, before it, too, disappeared, leaving the footpath as empty as if Kate had imagined the whole thing.

Teeth chattering, she started her car. The tall one had done away with the little one, she decided. He was probably out there somewhere looking for his next victim.

Really panicked now, she let out the clutch. The car shuddered to a halt. Cursing manual transmissions, Kate started the engine again and let it idle. Her hands on the wheel were shaking. Get a grip. There’s no one out there. This is Ireland, not Santa Monica.

Then she looked up to see a man at her window.