Never Look Back. Robert Ross
Читать онлайн.| Название | Never Look Back |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Robert Ross |
| Жанр | Триллеры |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Триллеры |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780786027507 |
KILLING KAREN
“They aren’t dreams, Chris.” Jessie sighed. “It’s the house. There’s something living in that house. And I don’t mean people.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“Unless you help me, I won’t be able to stop them.”
“Stop them from what?”
She turned away, then looked back at Chris. “Have you ever heard of Lettie Hatch?”
Lettie Hatch took a butcher knife, and with it took her father’s life…
“Yeah,” Chris said. “Everyone has. She killed her parents.”
“I live in her house, Chris. Lettie Hatch’s mother killed herself. And two years later her father got remarried to this young bitch and then Lettie killed her father and her stepmother.” She walked over to the window where the rain was still pounding the earth. “And my dad just got married again…to Karen, a girl way younger than he is. Are you starting to follow my line of reasoning?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“It’s going to all happen again, Chris, I know it is. I dream about it. I dream about the knife and the blood. And last night—”
Gooseflesh crawled up Chris’s arms. “What happened last night?”
“Last night I dreamed about killing Karen.” Jessie laughed. Almost a funny ha-ha kind of laugh, but Chris knew she wasn’t joking. “I dreamed I went into the kitchen and got the knife and went into her bedroom and started stabbing…and it felt so good!”
Books by Robert Ross
WHERE DARKNESS LIVES
DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES
CAUSE OF FEAR
NEVER LOOK BACK
Published by Pinnacle Books
ROBERT ROSS
Never Look Back
PINNACLE BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLSHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
With thanks to Greg H., my New Orleans expert
Contents
Book One: The Circle Opens
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Book Two: Echoes Across Time
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Book Three: Closing the Circle
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“I miss you.”
Karen spoke the words into the telephone as she ripped open another box. More books, she groaned inwardly, almost dropping the phone. She glared down at the dog-eared paperbacks nestled snugly in the box. The bookcases in the bedroom were already full. She tilted her head to grip the phone tighter between her head and shoulder and folded the box flaps back down. Another box for the attic, she thought, cursing herself for not throwing more away. You’re never going to read these again. Why did you have them shipped here?
“I’ll be home before you know it.” Her husband’s deep voice was reeassuring. “And the house? You like the house, don’t you?”
“Well, sure. What’s not to like?”
She walked over to the window and stared out at the bay. Apparently there was a good breeze—the horizon was edged with sailboats moving across the surface. The house was certainly much different from what she was used to, her cramped, roach-infested studio apartment in New Orleans’ French Quarter. Now she was living in an old white-clapboarded Victorian, weather-beaten but still grand, on the far east end of Commercial Street, the main drag through town. The house was two stories high—three if you counted the partial attic—with a small green yard in front and in the back, stone steps that led almost immediately down to the beach. Huge picture windows took up almost the entire second story, with an elegant, recently renovated bathroom complete with a Jacuzzi bathtub and a three-headed shower. From wherever she stood the view of the bay was breathtaking.
“I still wish you were here,” she said into the phone.
She heard the whiny tone in her voice and winced. Philip didn’t like weak women. She’d known that from the beginning. The only reason he married me was that I’ve pretended to be one hell of a lot stronger than I really am. But surely it’s not too much to expect that my husband would be here—in the house we’re supposed to be making our home—when I arrived?
He sighed, not responding to the suggestion of neediness in Karen’s voice. “Is Jessie behaving?”
Yet again, it was Jessie—Philip’s sixteen-year-old daughter from his first marriage—whom he was most concerned about.
“She hasn’t said two words to me since I arrived last night.” Karen looked out over the bay. The house was so still; if she didn’t know Jessie was downstairs, she’d swear she was alone in the house. Jessie never had friends in to see her, she never spoke on the phone, she couldn’t be bothered watching television.
Other than a mumbled “hello” when Karen first walked into the house, Jessie had pretty much given her the silent treatment. She hadn’t known what to really expect after her three-day drive from New Orleans, but she hadn’t expected such rudeness. Of course, I was kind of cranky from the drive, she amended, and it can’t be easy to have your new stepmother foisted on you like that. She’d arrived in the early afternoon, after spending the night in Providence. After the brief greeting, Jessie had scampered up the stairs and shut her bedroom door with a resounding slam that shook the old house. It wasn’t an auspicious beginning.
“In time,” Philip promised, “she’ll grow to love you.”
Yeah, right, when I sprout wings and fly, Karen thought. She sat down on the window seat. The window was open. A breeze carrying the tangy scent of a salty low tide gently fluttered the sheer curtains.
“Listen, Karen, I have to get going. I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said to the dial tone.
She hugged herself as she stood and headed across the room to the opposite side of the house that looked out over Commercial Street. The sidewalk was packed with people heading toward town. It was August, the height of the tourist season. She stood there for a moment watching the pedestrians, laughing and joking with each other as they strolled up the narrow street.
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