Amnesia Read Online Free PDF Page B

really have done this? The thought of his Italian loafers and tailored suit standing in a dumpster would have prompted her to laughter had this not all been so surreal. It had never occurred to her that someone would be stalking her, knew her car and where she lived, and perhaps was even watching her now.
    She stopped dead just as she pulled her blouse in place and slowly looked around the room, searching for a tell-tale sign of a Peeping Tom. She noticed the diagonal crack between the shades and the window where she had haphazardly let the slats fall several weeks earlier. Could someone have stood there looking on while she slept, or clothed? Looking up she saw several gaps where the popcorn texture had fallen away. Could a nanny-cam be hiding up there? Where else could someone have hidden a camera or listening device? It was unnerving and she kept checking around her as she completed her outfit, to see if there was someone there, studying her home and watching her dress. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought, realizing that just minutes ago she had been sound asleep while some strange man was forcing himself into her life.
    Finally she took a deep breath, threw her shoulders back, and resolutely determined that she was not going to let this creep win. She marched out the door, down the three flights of stairs and out to the waiting police.
    The four police cruisers, two with their lights still flashing, started to eat away at her unfounded bravado. When she finally saw her beloved car, she almost entirely lost her resolve, the fear hitting her in a wave as the reality gaped back at her. Tears stung at her eyes as she viewed the carnage, wondering why anyone would do that to any car, let alone hers.
    The trunk had been forced open, apparently with a tire iron, and the few items it held, jumper cables, emergency road kit, and first aid kit had been regurgitated out onto the ground and emptied. Similarly the hood was wrenched open, ignoring the hood latch under the dash, and wires, hoses and miscellaneous engine parts were scattered across the pavement; a puzzle, not unlike Humpty Dumpty, that could never be put back together again.
    From there it got vicious. The driver seat had been ripped out of the car, the upholstery completely peeled back in strips, the stuffing pulled out and tossed about the lot. The other seats too had the upholstery slashed and the cushions removed a handful at a time. The dashboard had been beaten down, the plastic smashed, and the body, also having received the knife’s attention, hanging as if by threads. Even the steering wheel was not untouched, and was hanging out of the steering column by wires.
    As icing on the cake the perpetrator had scratched obscenities into the paint on whatever had not been touched, including writing her name and several rough hearts strewn about. On the driver’s door was scrawled “i luv u LissA.” As a final slap each window had been shattered and each tire slashed.
    Lissa stopped dead in her tracks, sank to the ground, the tears thought spent the previous night reappearing. Accompanying the deluge were deep throaty sobs that reached deep into her already raw emotions, the fruits of grief and fear. Officer Lowell moved over and knelt down to her. “You okay ma’am?”
    Raising her head slightly to see the compassionate face, she slowly shook her head, grabbed her sides tightly, and cried even harder.
    Officer Lowell reached out and patted her shoulder awkwardly, knowing from experience that there was little he could do to help. He simply stated, “We’ll do all we can for you ma’am. It seems someone either really hates you or really loves you.”
     

CHAPTER 3
     
     
    Officer Bill Lowell let his eyes scan down the handwritten report, double-checking for any mistakes or oversights. Satisfied, he added his signature and glanced at the watch on his left wrist, noting the time at 06:33. He sighed, stood, and stepped over to the watch commander’s desk,