The Last Victim Read Online Free PDF Page B

He seemed to be lying—or at least, concealing something.
    “I thought I should come here, y’know?” he said. “Pay my respects and all that. What about you? Did you talk with Olivia recently?”
    Bridget sighed. “No, I’m one of those people from twenty years ago who moved away and lost touch.” She worked up a smile. “But it’s good to see you again, Fuller.”
    He let out a weak chuckle. “Huh, how about that twin brother of yours? I should have known he’d end up running for senator—or even president. He was like that in high school too.” Fuller reached into his suit jacket and handed her a business card. “Listen, tell Brad to give me a call, okay? I tried to get a hold of him last week. Left a couple of messages, but I guess he’s such a big shot now, he won’t return my calls.”
    “Well, you know, Brad’s really busy. He—”
    “Hey, I’m just giving you shit,” Fuller interrupted. “But seriously, tell him to call me. Okay? The number’s there on the card.”
    Bridget didn’t ask him why he wanted to get in touch with Brad. Ever since junior high school, people had used Bridget to get to her popular brother—in one way or another. Along with people giving her messages to pass on to Brad, there were the ones—both guys and girls—who pretended to like her so they could get closer to Brad. She didn’t exactly like it, but she’d been accustomed to it. She’d learned long ago not to care, and rarely questioned what people wanted from her brother.
    “I’ll pass this on to him,” Bridget said, slipping Fuller’s business card into her purse.
    Past Fuller’s left shoulder, she noticed the man with black hair staring at her again. But as soon as her eyes met his, he looked away.
    She touched Fuller’s arm. “Behind you to your left—around two o’clock—there’s a good-looking man with black hair. He’s standing by the lamp with the Tiffany shade. Do you know him?”
    Fuller casually looked over his shoulder. “The dude with the blue blazer?”
    “Yes,” Bridget whispered. “He keeps staring at me like he knows me.”
    “Huh, he looks vaguely familiar, but I’ll be damned if I know who the hell he is.”
    Bridget caught the stranger stealing another glance her way. Maybe he was a reporter, or he recognized her from TV. Was he a friend of Olivia’s?
    Fuller glanced at his wristwatch. “Well, hey, I’m gonna split. I need to get back to work.” He kissed Bridget on the cheek. “Listen, I mean it, tell Brad to call me. I really want to talk with him. Okay?”
    She nodded. “Sure thing, Fuller. Good to see you again.”
    He patted her arm, then headed for the door.
    Bridget turned toward the dark-haired stranger again. But he wasn’t there. She glanced around the room. She didn’t see him at all. It was as if he’d vanished.
    Yet, somehow, Bridget still felt his eyes on her.

CHAPTER 4
    “I can’t believe you went to her wake,” Brad said. “You know how much I didn’t want you attending that thing.”
    “Are you sending me to bed without any supper?” Bridget asked wryly.
    Brad was barbecuing steaks on the grill in the backyard. Bridget stood over the picnic table, fixing skewers of cut vegetables. It was starting to get dark—and chilly—earlier now, so Bridget was wearing a sweater.
    Brad and his wife Janice’s house was a big, four-bedroom, beige brick monstrosity built in the early nineties. The backyard was surprisingly small. A couple of Japanese maple trees and a spruce interrupted the well-manicured green carpet of a lawn. On one end stood a swing set and monkey bars for Brad and Janice’s daughter, Emma. Brad had also installed a small court area with a stand and a basketball hoop. He, David, and Eric had just played a round of HORSE before he started grilling the steaks.
    Janice was in the kitchen, and the boys were now in the den, watching a new DVD on the big-screen TV with their grandfather. It was one of Bradley Senior’s favorite movies,