Secrets That Kill Read Online Free PDF

called the cab company. Lucky for me the paper had the name and address of the restaurant at the top, so I could tell the cab people where to pick me up.
    “We’ll have someone there shortly,” the cab operator said.
    “How long will that take?” I asked, feeling the time ticking away.
    “Um…about ten minutes or so,” she answered.
    I thanked her and ended the call, worried about the “or so” part of her answer. Usually when people added things like that, it meant at least five to ten minutes more than what they said, but since I couldn’t hear her thoughts over the phone, I was just guessing. Maybe this time I’d be wrong, and the cab would be here a few minutes early. Now I was just kidding myself. With the way things had gone so far today, I didn’t stand a chance.
    I should probably call Chris now and let him know, but I didn’t want to do it where someone might overhear my conversation. I pushed open the door and stepped outside, glancing up and down the street. A few policemen stood inside the yellow tape beside me, and the coroner’s truck with Warren’s body was just pulling out. A small crowd had gathered to gawk, and I noticed a news reporter talking into a camera. She spotted me and hurried over to get an eyewitness account.
    Yikes! I ducked back into the restaurant. No way was I going to get my face plastered all over the news. I’d just have to wait until I got into the cab to call Chris. I stood by the window where I could see when the cab arrived, and settled in to wait. It wasn’t long before the other people in the restaurant began to leave, and I watched the reporter pounce on them. It kept me entertained for a little while until the reporter and cameraman packed up their stuff and left.
    After that, the seconds passed slowly, stretching my nerves to the limit. I wanted to get out of there so bad I couldn’t stand still, tapping my foot and changing position every few minutes like a crazy person. I stared out the window, chewing on my fingernails, worried that the cab could find a place to park that wasn’t a block away. Then I worried that he’d wait for me to walk that far once he got there. Where was he? Fifteen long minutes had come and gone and still no sign of him.
    As the cab finally pulled up across the street, the detectives finished up, and were just walking toward me to leave. I wanted to get out of there before them, but Detective Fitch beat me to the door and held it open for me. I told him thanks and rushed out before he could question me about why I was still there.
    I quickly crossed the street to the cab with Fitch’s thoughts coming through loud and clear. The fact that I was still at the restaurant after so long had aroused his suspicions, and now he was wondering why I was taking a cab. He wished he had gotten my home address. Maybe he should ask me to wait before it was too….
    I closed the door, blocking out the rest of his thoughts, and told the cab driver to take me to the airport as fast as he could. As we pulled away, I glanced out the window. Detective Fitch had opened his car door, but paused to watch me leave. He was still standing there when the cab took me around a corner and I lost sight of him.
    That was close. I buckled my seat belt and pulled out my phone. Chris answered on the first ring. “Hi honey,” I said, keeping my voice cheerful so he wouldn’t know how much trouble I was in.
    “Where are you?” he practically shouted. “You should have been here an hour ago. Why haven’t you called before now? What’s going on?”
    “I’m in a cab on my way there,” I explained. “Hang on a minute, and I’ll ask the driver how long it will take to get to the airport.”
    The driver had been listening, but waited for me to ask before he told me. He was thinking it would take about thirty to thirty-five minutes if we were lucky. “I can get you there in about forty-five minutes if traffic isn’t too bad,” he said. “This time of day, you