The Killing House Read Online Free PDF Page B

a moment when dear old dad wasn't reminding her how she had royally screwed up her life. I told you that good-for-nuthin' had a wandering eye. Guys like Tony, with their Hollywood looks and money, they're always gonna be lookin' to upgrade to a younger, fresher model. Men got options, Lisa. Women don't. Sure, the bright ones do, but God didn't bless you with either brains or particularly good looks. You need to get your head out of the clouds and stop dreamin' about some goddamn Prince Charming and settle for someone on your own level.
    She'd told her father that Tony had simply wanted out - seven-year itch and all that bullshit. The truth was Tony had dumped her for a younger model, a neighbour's 22-year-old Swedish au pair who, incidentally, was three months pregnant with Tony's baby. Dale Alcione would have had a field day with that little nugget of info.
    A black car pulled into the lot - an Audi. It drove into the space next to the front office.
    Probably another bunch of rich teenagers on their way back from the slopes, looking to spend their Friday night getting wasted or high , she thought. That or some older guy with a young chippie looking to pork their way through the storm . The excitement never ended around here.
    The car door opened. Not a teenager or some fat old bald guy but a very tall and very big man dressed in a sharp overcoat. He was alone. When the car door had opened, the interior light clicked on; she saw no one else inside.
    The man smiled as he approached the front counter. He had nice teeth and wore a pair of stylish glasses. He had beautiful blue eyes, intense and intelligent. Straightening, she pulled on the edges of her angora crewneck sweater, wanting to show off her figure.
    'Good evening,' he said. 'I was hoping you might have a room available.'
    Definitely from somewhere overseas , she thought. 'I'm sure I can accommodate you.'
    'Thank you so much.'
    She told him the rate.
    The man took a wad of cash from his pocket.
    'I need a licence and a credit card,' she said. 'Security deposits and all of that fun stuff.'
    'I'm afraid I've lost my licence.' The man handed her a hundred-dollar bill. 'Will this be enough to cover a security deposit?'
    'That'll do it. Just give me a name and address.'
    'Ted Parker.'
    'Your accent,' she said, typing in his information. 'What is it, British or Australian?'
    'Australian, mostly, although I did spend a good number of my formative years in London.'
    Something about the man triggered a comparison with one of her favorite actors, Russell Crowe. Maybe it was simply the Australian connection, because this guy certainly didn't talk like Crowe did in his movies, and there was absolutely no physical resemblance. That wasn't a bad thing. Ted Parker was certainly doing just fine in both the looks and the body departments, and he had that same animal magnetism Crowe gave off in his movies, that rugged sense of ... well, manliness. The kind of testosterone-fuelled alpha male who always won in a bar fight and had his pick of women. A man, she suspected, who knew how to treat a woman right.
    'I'm pretty sure the bars and restaurants in the areaare closing down for the night on account of the storm,' she said. 'If you're hungry, I can make you a sandwich. Dale - that's my father, he owns the place - he has some beers in the fridge. Bud cans, nothing fancy. I can bring some on by if you like.'
    'That's very kind of you, but I've already eaten this evening.'
    Lisa gave him her best smile as she placed the key on the counter.
    He paid in cash, thanked her again and left. Lisa watched him all the way to the car, wanting to know more about the mysterious and charismatic Ted Parker, why he made her feel safe.
    Fletcher parked around the side of the dingy motel, where his car couldn't be seen from the highway. In a few minutes' time, it would be covered with snow, and no one would recognize it.
    He popped the trunk, selected the rucksack and carried it with him to his room. The