Obsession Falls Read Online Free PDF Page B

first time in days, the taut fear that had kept her terrified, fleeing, always looking behind her … faded. Not completely. But enough that she was able to put her soup in a bowl, sit down at the table with a spoon in her hand, and eat like a civilized person.
    She put her bowl in the sink. My God, she’d tracked dirt and broken glass all over the floor. She unlaced her hiking boots and removed them. She retrieved the broom and dustpan from the pantry and swept up.
    She found the half bath off the kitchen and used it. Actually peed in a real toilet. And flushed it.
    She pulled the honeycomb blinds down over the broken window—they cut the cold breeze.
    She wandered into the living room and sank down on the couch. Nice room. It looked like the family had saved the knotty pine paneling from Taylor’s old house to use on the walls. The paneling gave the space a warm, golden feel. Homey. Like her home. Like … she leaned her head back on the pillows, then laid down and pulled the afghan over herself.
    Just for a moment …

 
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
    Taylor woke up as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon.
    She sat up with a jerk. How had she fallen asleep like that? After so many hours and days of no sleep, fearful sleep, freezing cold sleep, how had she …
    Well. She had answered her own question.
    She had slept the night through. She had been without sleep for so long she had broken into a family’s house, slurped their soup, and fallen asleep on their couch as if she didn’t have a worry in the world. Which she guessed she didn’t, since the cops had never shown up to haul her ass away.
    So what was another can of soup? She was starving .
    She headed back into the kitchen, found the bathroom again, peed in the real toilet—again—and flushed it.
    Man, that never got old.
    Back in the pantry, she found a can of clam chowder and a can of Spam.
    She loathed Spam. But right now, it sounded like the best breakfast ever.
    Today, her hands weren’t shaking so much. She made quick work of cutting the Spam and putting it in a pan to fry. She found a loaf of bread in the freezer and popped two slices in the toaster. She used the electric can opener and opened a can of peaches. And she made coffee. She sat down and ate breakfast: the whole can of Spam, the whole can of peaches, three slices of bread, a healthy helping of preserves, and a bowl of clam chowder. When she was done, she meticulously put the kitchen back into order. If anyone came in the back door now, they would notice nothing out of place except the spattering of glass shards on the tile floor close to the window.
    She unlocked the door and headed outside.
    With food in her stomach and a good night’s sleep behind her, the air felt brisk rather than brutal, and the limb that had defeated her last night was manageable. She pulled it up onto the porch and positioned it so it looked as if it had broken off in the wind and smashed the window.
    She was very aware of the crime she had committed, and also very aware that if the residents of this house returned, she would quickly have to make herself scarce. She did not want to be shot as a trespasser.
    Going back inside, she shut the door behind her and felt the heat soak into her chilled skin. To be warm was a luxury she would never again take for granted.
    Starting with the upper level, she took a tour of the house.
    The upstairs held three bedrooms and a bath. The main floor was the living room, the kitchen, the half bath, the master suite. There, on the wide wooden desk in the bedroom, was a computer. Walking over, she turned it on. While she waited for it to boot, she checked the modem. It was unplugged. She plugged it in. The modem lights came on.
    She had power. She had a way to communicate with the outside world.
    She put her hand on her heart. It fluttered like a trapped bird beneath her palm.
    God. In just a moment, she would be free. She would send an e-mail to the authorities, and the police would take