The Wolf in Winter Read Online Free PDF Page B

will come near you, okay? Seriously, nobody here is in a hurry to get cut.”
    The girl considered the offer, then nodded. Ben took his big old L.L.Bean goose-down parka from the rack and slid it across the floor. The girl squatted and, never taking her eyes from the four men, slipped her left arm into the sleeve. She rose, and in one quick movement changed the knife from her right hand to her left so that she could put the parka on fully. The men remained completely still while she did so. The girl then moved sideways across the room to the poker table, poured herself a glass of the whisky, and tossed it back in one gulp. Luke Joblin looked slightly pained.
    “These people who held you captive,” said Thomas. “Did you get a look at them?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you know their names?”
    “No.” The girl relented, and soon the words were tumbling from her lips. “They weren’t the ones who brought me here first, though. They were an older couple, David and Harriett Carpenter, if those were even their real names. They showed me some ID when we first met, but what do I know about IDs? As soon as we got to the outskirts of this shithole, they handed me over to another couple, younger than them. They were the ones who kept me in their damn basement. I know their faces. They didn’t even bother to keep them hidden from me. That’s how I knew they were going to kill me in the end. Others came too. I caught them looking at me through the slit in the door. I pretended to be asleep, but I saw some of their faces as well.”
    Thomas shook his head in disbelief, and sat down heavily. BenPearson looked toward the woods, just as the girl had done, waiting for figures to appear out of the gloom, hell-bent on dragging her back to captivity. Luke Joblin watched the young woman, his expression unreadable. Calder Ayton’s attention was drawn to the wrinkles on his hands. He traced them with the tips of his index fingers—first the left, then the right—as though surprised to find this evidence of his aging. No further words were spoken, no more reassurances given. This was Morland’s business now.
    Annie walked over to the register, where she could keep an eye on the parking lot outside the store. Blue lights shone in the distance. The police were on their way. She watched the four men, but they seemed stunned into inaction. She was in no danger from them.
    An unmarked Crown Vic pulled into the lot, a flashing blue light on its dashboard. Although Ben had killed the outside spots when he closed the store, there were motion-activated lights above the porch. Those lights now illuminated the lot, bathing Chief Morland in their glow as he stepped from the car.
    “I feel sick,” said Annie. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
    “The chief has just arrived, honey,” said Thomas.
    “It’s the whisky,” said the girl. “It’s done something to my stomach.”
    She bent over, as if in pain.
    “I need to puke or shit—I don’t know which.”
    Ben didn’t want her to do either in his place of business, so he directed her to a door at the rear of the store. It led into his private quarters, where he sometimes stayed the night, particularly if he was working late in the gunsmithery. His house was less than a mile away, but since the death of his wife it had felt too big and empty for him. He preferred the store. That was his place now.
    “It’s the second door on the left,” he said. “You take your time. You’re safe now.”
    She headed toward the back of the store, her hand over her mouth, seconds before the chief entered. He was a big man, six feet three andtopping out at about two hundred pounds. He was clean-shaven, and his eyes were gray, like the cold ashes of old fires. He had been Prosperous’s chief of police for nearly a decade, and had taken over the job from his father. Before that, he served his apprenticeship in the Maine State Police. That was how he always described it: “my apprenticeship.” Everyone knew