Seldom Seen in August Read Online Free PDF Page A

the ones he’d already put in the ground. But it was
that clear whoever had engineered this little theater production
knew him, and had somehow managed to corral him here for a little
show-and-tell. But to what end? And exactly how had they known he’d
be here , in this particular house? Were all the
others similarly booby-trapped? He might have thought that stoolie
sonofabitch Cartwright had included Wade’s hiding place among the
notes he’d sung to the police, but Cartwright didn’t know where he had gone after they’d split up.
    That’s when he thought of the
gate.
    The only one without a sign. And while
Wade had no particular feelings about dogs one way or another,
common sense dictated that a man seeking a haven would choose the
path of least resistance. No psychological profiling necessary to
glean that particular nugget. But what if he hadn’t? What if,
instead of choosing Seldom Seen as his hiding place, he’d run on
and sought sanctuary elsewhere? He had chosen to come here,
to this house in this neighborhood. Why then did he
feel as if he’d been lured here?
    No, it didn’t add up. Factor free will
into the equation and nobody could have known he’d have chosen this
house, dog sign or no.
    And yet, here you
are .
    Because of a sign, or rather, the lack
of one?
    The sign, he realized, and the sirens.
He now recalled that those wailing sirens had seemed to come from
everywhere, from all around him until he hit Seldom Seen Drive.
Then they’d only been behind him. Closer and closer all the time
until he felt trapped, vulnerable, desperate…
    “Jesus, this is ridiculous,” he said
aloud and brushed himself off. He took a deep breath and slowly
released it.
    How are they doing
this?
    He didn’t know, nor did he care. It was
time to go.
    A kick sent the doll torso flying over
the balcony and down the steps. Wade listened to it tumbling,
waited until it stopped, then followed it down.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    At the foot of the stairs, he stepped
on the doll and gave a start when it emitted the sound of a woman
quietly sobbing. He had no wish to give this further consideration
and so stalked through the house until he had reached the living
room and the sliding doors he had used to gain entry.
    Wade was no idiot. He knew that walking
out there with the cops on his tail was likely to be the last thing
he ever did, at least as a free man. But he couldn’t stay here
either. Not while there was someone hiding in the house who knew
him, knew what he was and what he had done, someone who was having
just the grandest time tormenting him with sideshow trickery. It
all felt a little bit too predestined for his taste.
    No. He was going, and he would just
have to be careful once he crossed the threshold. He did not want
to think about Cartwright and the money, and what it meant for his
chances of a future. All that mattered now was getting
gone.
    Resolute, he stayed down and moved in a
crouch to the curtains, parted them with a finger and felt his
breath catch in his throat.
    There were two cops in the yard, and
they were heading toward the house, guns drawn.
    “Great.” Wade backtracked to the hall,
then hurried into the kitchen where he flexed the fingers of his
free hand, the sweat oozing from his pores, and tried to think. In
seconds the cops would knock on the sliding door. After seeing the
gate they wouldn’t be so easily persuaded that nothing was amiss.
They would force the door and they’d have him.
    Keep it together, man , he told
himself. You’ve still got a weapon. You’re not done,
yet.
    But despite his own encouragement, he felt done.
    Cartwright was gone.
    The money was gone.
    The pigs were at the back door and his
hidey-hole was filled with spiders.
    Check the front.
    The rapping of hard knuckles against
solid glass echoed through the house, each knock sending a jolt of
electric fear up his spine.
    Wade ran to the kitchen window, looked
outside.
    Two cruisers were parked at the curb,
lights