Beware Read Online Free PDF Page B

past its bookshelves, checked behind an easy chair, and looked in the closet.
    “I really appreciate your helping me like this,” Lacey said.
    “Glad I came by when I did.”
    “I guess it’s just a wild-goose chase.”
    “Not yet,” he said, stepping toward her. She quickly backed out of range. He went past, pulled open the linen closet door, then entered the bathroom and turned on its light. He walked past the toilet and sink. At the tub, he slid back the frosted glass door. Then he turned to Lacey and smiled. Not an open friendly smile: it was guarded and sardonic. “
Now
,” he said, “it’s a wildgoose chase.”
    “Well, thanks an awful lot.”
    “I’m just sorry we didn’t bag him. For your peace of mind. If you’d like me to stick around for a while, I’d be happy to.”
    “Thanks. I think I’ll be all right.”
    “Suit yourself.”
    He handed the revolver to Lacey. “If you ever have to use this, go for the torso and don’t settle for one hit. Put three or four in him, but save a shot or two, just in case.”
    Lacey nodded. Strange advice, she thought, but coming from Cliff it sounded perfectly natural.
    “And remember I’m just three houses away, if you need me. Let me give you my number.” He wrote it on a pad by the kitchen telephone. “If you have any trouble, give me a ring. I can get here a lot quicker than the cops.”
    “All right.” She walked ahead of him to the door.
    “Sure you won’t feel better if I hang around for a bit?”
    “I’m sure. Thanks anyway.” She opened the front door for him. “Have a good run.”
    He jumped off the stoop, and raced across the lawn.
    Lacey shut the door and locked it, relieved that he was gone. Had it been intentional, touching her breast? Probably. He’d been so insistent on staying. More than likely, he’d hoped she would fall into his protective arms and…
    Hell, he was just being a good neighbor.
    She tried to push the revolver into her waistband, but the jeans were too tight. She shoved its barrel down a front pocket. It wouldn’t go in past the cylinder, so she pulled it out and carried it into the kitchen and held it while she poured herself a glass of pinot noir. She took the revolver and wine into her study and sat at her desk.
    Her back felt exposed. Turning her chair, she could see the open door. That was better, though she still felt vulnerable. She placed the revolver on her lap. With a trembling hand, she lit a cigarette.
    Then she sipped her wine and picked up the phone. She dialed.
    On the other end, the phone rang twice.
    “
Tribune
,” said James, the night editor.
    “It’s Lacey. I’ve got a story for you. There were two killings at Hoffman’s to night.”
    “Ahhh.” He sounded disgusted. “Okay, you want to give it Tome?”
    “
Tribune
reporter Lacey Allen last night discovered the mutilated body of Elsie Hoffman and fatally injured Red Peterson when she entered Hoffman’s Market shortly before closing time.”
    “
You
found them?”
    “Afraid so.”
    “Christ!”
    “Before she could summon authorities, Miss Allen was herself assaulted and rendered unconscious by an unseen assailant. Paragraph. Police, arriving on the scene, found that Red Peterson had succumbed to his injuries. A thorough search of the premises revealed that the killer had fled.”
    For the next five minutes, she continued to tell her story to James and the
Tribune
’s tape recorder, filling in details, never mentioning her rape or the specifics about the killings or her suspicion that the assailant had escaped in her car, finally recapping the earlier incidents at the market. “That aboutdoes it,” she finished. “Except for one thing. I’d like some time to recuperate. Tell Carl I won’t be in tomorrow, okay?”
    “Sure thing. You all right?”
    “Just beat up a little. I’ll be in Friday.”
    “Fine. Great work, Lacey.”
    “Just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
    “I detect a note of