knife.
Gunshots. Blood. Pain. Screaming. The screaming woke her and she realized it was her own. Panting, drenched in sweat, she sat up in bed and turned on the light. She felt tears on her cheeks and willed them away. McDonalds didn’t cry. Her brothers had drilled that into her well enough.
Knowing sleep was out of the question, she stumbled out to the kitchen and heated some water for herbal tea. She sat on the couch wrapped in the blanket from her bed, feet tucked under her. Harrigan’s white handkerchief, now streaked with soot, sat on the coffee table. Without thinking, she picked it up and ran it though her fingers. That strange tingling started again.
Forget about Harrigan. Detectives. Cops in general. Think about the mysterious Jeffrey. Find him and get them all out of your life.
Where was Jeffrey? Odds were, right where he was supposed to be. But the cop in her wouldn’t accept it on blind faith. She thought of the times in Pine Hills when Randy had let her partner on his detective investigations.
Get as many facts as you can, kid. Then figure out which ones are useful.
Start at the beginning. Megan, her college roommate, had steered her to this apartment. Megan’s grandmother knew Doris. Maybe the grandmother knew Jeffrey too. Colleen sent Megan an e-mail. At the very least, Megan could contact her grandmother.
Colleen thought Randy had used her as a sounding board more than anything else, but sometimes saying it out loud turned on those overhead light bulbs. She felt like an idiot talking to herself at four in the morning, so she opened a new spreadsheet. She headed columns with names. One for Jeffrey, one for Doris, one for the stepdaughter, whatever her name was. On a whim, she added Megan’s grandmother. Then she typed in what little she knew.
When she finished, she had bits and pieces of disjointed information that still made no sense. She laughed out loud and started highlighting. It still didn’t say much, but it was a lot prettier. And as an added bonus, she was drowsy. With luck, she might get a couple hours of sleep before the roller coasters woke her. Not bothering with the bedroom, she curled up on the living room couch and sank into sleep, this time undisturbed.
Either she’d slept through the coasters or the wind had shifted, because even with the windows open, it was nine-fifteen before she woke. She felt rested, more than she had in weeks.
She stretched and the stiffness through her shoulders and thighs reminded her of yesterday’s workout. Healed or not, her left leg hadn’t regained full strength yet. A short run ought to loosen things up. She readied the coffee maker, pulled on running shorts, sports bra and a light tee. The morning air was cool, but nothing like November mornings in Oregon. She secured her hair in a ponytail, grabbed her keys and headed out.
She reached the intersection at Wallace Road in under fifteen minutes. The crossing guard for the elementary school was pulling off her neon orange gloves and walking toward a small motor scooter. Colleen dipped her head to the guard and jogged in place as she waited for the light to change. Across the street, through the Y’s glass walls, people worked out on the cardio machines, and she wondered why anyone would want to run on a treadmill when the weather was so glorious outside. The light turned green and she pressed forward. She’d go as far as the shopping center and turn around.
When a black BMW across the road caught her eye, she realized she’d totally forgotten about Doris’ visitor from yesterday. Colleen twisted her head to get a better look at the driver, but the car was already moving, and the window tinting prevented a clear view.
Relax. This was a major street, this neighborhood must be overrun with Beemers, and black was a common enough color. Nevertheless, she crossed to the other side of the street and jogged for home.
Chapter Six
Graham yawned as he walked down the corridor to
Gunshots. Blood. Pain. Screaming. The screaming woke her and she realized it was her own. Panting, drenched in sweat, she sat up in bed and turned on the light. She felt tears on her cheeks and willed them away. McDonalds didn’t cry. Her brothers had drilled that into her well enough.
Knowing sleep was out of the question, she stumbled out to the kitchen and heated some water for herbal tea. She sat on the couch wrapped in the blanket from her bed, feet tucked under her. Harrigan’s white handkerchief, now streaked with soot, sat on the coffee table. Without thinking, she picked it up and ran it though her fingers. That strange tingling started again.
Forget about Harrigan. Detectives. Cops in general. Think about the mysterious Jeffrey. Find him and get them all out of your life.
Where was Jeffrey? Odds were, right where he was supposed to be. But the cop in her wouldn’t accept it on blind faith. She thought of the times in Pine Hills when Randy had let her partner on his detective investigations.
Get as many facts as you can, kid. Then figure out which ones are useful.
Start at the beginning. Megan, her college roommate, had steered her to this apartment. Megan’s grandmother knew Doris. Maybe the grandmother knew Jeffrey too. Colleen sent Megan an e-mail. At the very least, Megan could contact her grandmother.
Colleen thought Randy had used her as a sounding board more than anything else, but sometimes saying it out loud turned on those overhead light bulbs. She felt like an idiot talking to herself at four in the morning, so she opened a new spreadsheet. She headed columns with names. One for Jeffrey, one for Doris, one for the stepdaughter, whatever her name was. On a whim, she added Megan’s grandmother. Then she typed in what little she knew.
When she finished, she had bits and pieces of disjointed information that still made no sense. She laughed out loud and started highlighting. It still didn’t say much, but it was a lot prettier. And as an added bonus, she was drowsy. With luck, she might get a couple hours of sleep before the roller coasters woke her. Not bothering with the bedroom, she curled up on the living room couch and sank into sleep, this time undisturbed.
Either she’d slept through the coasters or the wind had shifted, because even with the windows open, it was nine-fifteen before she woke. She felt rested, more than she had in weeks.
She stretched and the stiffness through her shoulders and thighs reminded her of yesterday’s workout. Healed or not, her left leg hadn’t regained full strength yet. A short run ought to loosen things up. She readied the coffee maker, pulled on running shorts, sports bra and a light tee. The morning air was cool, but nothing like November mornings in Oregon. She secured her hair in a ponytail, grabbed her keys and headed out.
She reached the intersection at Wallace Road in under fifteen minutes. The crossing guard for the elementary school was pulling off her neon orange gloves and walking toward a small motor scooter. Colleen dipped her head to the guard and jogged in place as she waited for the light to change. Across the street, through the Y’s glass walls, people worked out on the cardio machines, and she wondered why anyone would want to run on a treadmill when the weather was so glorious outside. The light turned green and she pressed forward. She’d go as far as the shopping center and turn around.
When a black BMW across the road caught her eye, she realized she’d totally forgotten about Doris’ visitor from yesterday. Colleen twisted her head to get a better look at the driver, but the car was already moving, and the window tinting prevented a clear view.
Relax. This was a major street, this neighborhood must be overrun with Beemers, and black was a common enough color. Nevertheless, she crossed to the other side of the street and jogged for home.
Chapter Six
Graham yawned as he walked down the corridor to
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