Gone to Ground Read Online Free PDF Page B

few minutes I heard him drive off.
    My mind still shook. I touched my neck. If it bruised, how would I hide it?
    The phone rang. I jumped. It had to be the police, asking about last night. I hesitated, then lifted the receiver and squeaked out a hello.
    "Tully! Thank God you're all right." My mother's voice, all thick.
    A dust whirl blew in my stomach. How did she know Mike had nearly choked me to death?
    "Did you hear about Erika Hollinger?" Mom started to cry. "She was murdered last night, Tully, just like the others. They found her this morning in her closet . . ."
    The phone slipped from my hand.
    The next couple hours glazed by. My phone rang off the hook, rumors flying about the latest murder. It had been nine months since Carla Brewster. She'd been sixty-four. Erika was so much younger than all the other victims. Who would be next—a little girl?
    Later that morning I lumbered outside to get the mail. The spring sun was warm on my face, and my veins ran cold as Turtle Creek. Mail in hand I reached for the door to go back inside—and saw dark red smears on the knob. I froze.
    My finger lifted to graze the smear. It was dry.
    I stared at it.
    They say there are moments in your life you'll remember on your deathbed. I'd thought it would be times like Michael Phillips first kissing me. Our wedding day. The birth of our son, Michael Brent II, soon to come. But not anymore. The thing I'll most remember is the horrible sight of that smeared blood.
    It hit me then. This was why Mike came back for the rag.
    If he'd left blood on the doorknob, he surely left it first in the truck. He'd climbed into it that morning and seen the telltale evidence. Must have been in too much of a rush to notice the front door.
    My life drained out my toes as I stared at that blood. Such a little bit of red to mean so very much. Shock stole through my body till I thought I'd pass out. Somehow I made it inside the house and collapsed on the couch. The mail scattered on the floor.
    This couldn't be. Everything could be explained away. Somehow. The changed uniform. Coming home late, all agitated. Making me lie for him.
    The blood.
    He'd told me he'd kill Erika. But who'd ever believe he meant it?
    And now he'd almost killed me.
    I leaned back against the sofa cushions, giving my crowded lungs room to breathe. What was I going to do?
    I'd fallen in love with Michael so hard . I couldn't help it. The flowers, the way he'd listened to me. The way he'd made this nobody feel like the most special girl in the world.
    Where did that man go?
    Now my whole life was different. I didn't even go to church anymore. I'd gone all my childhood. Had clung to Jesus and made Him part of my life. Jesus faded when Mike came along.
    "You hear me good, Tully. I came home at the regular time."
    The facts stared me in the face: Mike had killed Erika. And her death was just like all the others. The sixth Closet Killing. When the last murder happened nine months ago, that night, too, he'd come home late from work. Said something held him up at the factory.
    The blood on the door.
    My head snapped up.
    I had to get rid of it.
    On someone else's legs, I pushed to my feet and tottered to the kitchen. Bent down to pull a rag from underneath the sink. My gaze fell on a pair of yellow plastic gloves beside the rags. I stared at those gloves a long time.
    After an eternity I made up my mind.
    Heart still on hold, I reached for the items I needed.
    A few minutes later on the porch, I cleaned the blood off the doorknob. I threw the soiled cloth in the washing machine, then hurried to get Mike's dirty uniform. I checked it all over—and found a few dark smears.
    Blood? Or just dirt?
    I threw the uniform into the washing machine and turned the water to hot.
    There. I'd done my wifely duty.
    In a fog I returned to the couch to lie down.
    I pictured Erika's pulled-up shirt, the bump of her belly, and squinched my eyes shut. When I opened them I'd found myself staring at the Coke