The Night Killer Read Online Free PDF

padlocks, old horseshoes, and some of the smaller antique tools—sat on a series of shelves on one wall. The arrangement told her they liked looking at the things they had collected. Two of the hutches’ doors were ajar. Nothing else looked amiss.
    Diane turned her attention to the dining room. The dining room furniture was Victorian, like much of the furniture in the house. A mahogany breakfront hutch holding ornate dishes stood against one wall. Here too, the doors were ajar, but the hutch was not ransacked. Diane would like to have seen the rest of the house.
    She took out her cell phone and began taking pictures of the crime scene and of the environment 360 degrees around where she stood. When she finished she put her phone back in its case on her belt. That was as much as she could do.
    Diane listened again to the sounds of the house. Virtually quiet except for normal house sounds. She retraced her steps out the door and walked down the long steps that led to the road she’d left by not six hours earlier. It was dark except for the moon, and she had to be careful where she placed her feet going down the steep stairs. The road was muddy from the rain. She started off in the opposite direction from where she had gone earlier, walking on the shoulder, trying to keep out of the mud as much as possible. Surely the Barres had another neighbor nearby who wasn’t homicidal or, at the very least, didn’t keep skeletons.
    She rounded a bend just as a pair of headlights came over the hill in her direction. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was out in the open with no place to hide. She would have to make a run for it again. Please don’t let it be the stranger from Massey Road—or the killer.

Chapter 5
    Diane eased backward, putting distance between her and the road—and the approaching car. A ditch brimming with rainwater flowed between her and the muddy road. A car would most assuredly get stuck if it tried to cross toward her. As it drew closer, Diane saw that it was a rugged-looking Jeep Wrangler. So much for getting stuck in the ditch. She unconsciously stepped farther back. The vehicle slowed and stopped.
    Diane’s heart beat rapidly. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t very well run from everyone she met. She was weak and getting shaky. She’d have to take a chance and trust someone.
    The Jeep door opened and a man got out, shielding his eyes from the brightness of his dome light, looking in Diane’s direction. From what little Diane could see, he looked young, perhaps in his twenties. She could also see that he was wearing a uniform, and there was a blue light mounted on the dashboard of his Jeep. He was a policeman.
    “Miss Fallon? You the lady lost in the woods? I got this anonymous call—well, it was pretty strange, really. I’m Deputy Travis Conrad, ma’am. Well, are you lost?”
    Diane almost collapsed with relief. She ran stumbling to the vehicle, sloshing in the soggy weeds and leaping over the ditch and into the mud.
    “Yes. Yes, Deputy Conrad. I’m Diane Fallon,” she said, resisting the urge to hug him.
    “Well, I’ll be damned. I told Jason I’d take the call. I was curious. We get all kinds of crazy calls, but this was a new one. I thought the guy was drunk, but Jason said he didn’t sound drunk.”
    The deputy looked intently at her in the light from his open door, an expression of deep concern on his face.
    “Excuse me for saying so, ma’am, but you look somewhat worse for the wear. How long have you been out like this?”
    Diane hadn’t given a thought to her appearance. She pushed back a strand of hair from her face with shaking fingers. “Five and a half . . . maybe six hours . . . I don’t know exactly.”
    “Are you injured? Do I need to get medical help for you?”
    “No, no, I’m not hurt. Just exhausted and dehydrated. I haven’t had any water.”
    Travis Conrad looked at her pleasantly and slapped the hood of the Jeep. “Why don’t you get in the ol’ Wrangler