Obsession Falls Read Online Free PDF Page A

for that. Not that her mother noticed, what with the new career and the new husband.
    Now, as Taylor sat on a rock with the setting sun in her eyes, she gazed at the land that should have been her heritage, and thought how fitting it was she faced her death in the same spot where she had first drawn breath.
    Her old home had been a drafty old farmhouse, built in the early twentieth century and added on to, hodgepodge, as the original Summers family grew. Yet Taylor remembered it well: the wide, wraparound porch where she would sit in the summer and dream, the big kitchen with the old cast-iron gas stove with one side that burned wood where she would huddle on cold winter days, the attic with its sloped ceiling, her bed with the squeaky springs, the bathroom with the worn claw-footed tub.
    This new house … it wasn’t the same. The usurpers had built to give it an old-fashioned look, put a porch on it and wood siding. But it was clearly a vacation home, an indulgence for people who had more money than sense. There was a hot tub, for shit’s sake. The windows were too wide, designed to open the house to the panoramic views of unspoiled meadow and mountain. Oh, and the windows had blinds, not curtains. Clearly, the house wasn’t loved, for no one wandered in and out, slamming the screen door behind her.
    Taylor sniffled.
    No children climbed the big black walnut tree in the side yard, or swung from a swing under the wide branches of the Douglas fir. How could a house feel life if it was always empty, waiting eagerly for—
    Wait . It was empty. The house was empty.
    No one was there.
    For over an hour, Taylor had sat here, moped here, and seen not one sign of life.
    The house was empty.
    She slid off the rock. She could go down, look in the windows, see what they’d done with the place. She could … she could try the doors and windows and see if any of them were open.
    She took a few steps down the hill.
    She wouldn’t go in. Not really. It wasn’t her house anymore. It wasn’t her kitchen … although inside was food she could eat. Food.
    Even if the family was not here, there would be some kind of foodstuffs.
    Wouldn’t there?
    Her tears dried. She firmed her wobbling chin.
    Maybe some canned soup.
    She skidded down the steep slope toward the yard.
    Canned soup: chicken noodle or cream of tomato. And crackers. Graham crackers with peanut butter.
    Her stomach growled, had been growling for hours, for days.
    Going into that house made sense. Starving to death out here didn’t make sense. Freezing to death didn’t make sense. Hallucinating that she saw her father meant nothing except that she was dehydrated, hungry, and more desperate than she had ever been in her whole life.
    She could not go down to Ketchum to report the murder, or attempted murder, of the boy. She couldn’t walk that far, not in the shape she was in, and she didn’t dare take to the road to hitchhike; Dash and his friend might be looking for her. Besides, she was from the D.C. area. She knew very well that sometimes cops were on the take.
    A sudden thought pulled her to a halt. What if she didn’t have to go down to Ketchum to talk to the cops at all? What if … what if the homeowners had a computer in there? And an Internet connection? She could report the crime from here. To the FBI, to people she knew were trustworthy, someone who would know what had happened to the little boy, who could tell her if he was safe.
    She hoped he was. She prayed he was.
    Then someone would come for her and this nightmare would be over.
    Yes! This made sense. Get in, get on the Internet and report the crime.
    What if the doors and windows aren’t open?
    She heard her father’s voice in her head, but she kept walking, sliding down the old, steep trail she remembered so well. Going home.
    She hesitated when she got to the yard.
    By the calendar, it was still summer, even if the temperatures at night got down to freezing. What if the family were here, but they