Walk in Darkness - A Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

eleventh floor. The door jarred open as a young woman in a skirt and high-heels ran through at the last second. She smiled and turned around, staring up at the numbers above the door before pressing the button to the sixth floor. Another man got on and smiled to her. He stood behind her and Stanton could see him staring at her behind. She stepped off on the sixth floor and his eyes followed her until the doors closed.
    “Fuck, I could hit that all night.” He looked to Stanton , who didn’t respond. The man got off on the tenth floor and looked back at him once before heading to his condo.
    Stanton got off on his floor and checked his mailbox next to the vending machines. There was a letter reminding him that his student loan payment was due and he looked at the projected payoff date on the back of the let ter: May 5, 2019. Though his PhD had been paid for through a tuition waiver, he had to maximize his loans for his undergraduate and master’s degrees.
    The apartment was warm and he turned on the air conditioner before changing into shorts and going out onto his balcony. Two small bonfires were on the beach, a signal from the night-surfers that everybody should begin coming down. Stanton got his board off the balcony and threw on sandals before heading out.
    This section of beach near Ocean Park was filled with tourists and families during the day, but in the evenings and at night the hardcore surfers came out. Newport Avenue, the primary business district of Ocean Beach, wasn’t far , but they were all independent stores; the community had not allowed chain stores to open on their property. The result was that the locals knew to throw the tourists out when the sun began going down; night was the province of the people who lived here.
    Stanton walked down the beach and several of the surfers heading down shout ed hellos or alohas . He was known as an Ace, a person who preferred to be in a solitary state of mind and connect with the ocean without distractions. A fifteen year old surfer had told him that and he was impressed at the insight of the expression. A bunch of beach bums had been able to perfectly sum up his view of the ocean and his place with it.
    Teddy came up to him, his blond hair covering his eyes. He was shirtless and his tattoos appeared animated in the light of the bonfire.
    “Total ankle snappers today, brah,” he said to Stanton.
    “I know. I was just gonna sit out there a while.”
    “Forget that. There’s some serious Barbies out here. You should hit up the party at Vanessa’s house.”
    “I might stop by. I’m just gonna chill for a bit.”
    “All right , brother, see you there.”
    As Teddy ran off , Stanton felt embarrassed for using the word “chill.” He was now thirty-four years old and hanging out with twenty-five year olds and trying to use their language. But that wasn’t what bothered him the most. He tried his best not to adapt to their speech, not to use their cadences or expressions, but he found he couldn’t do it. His mind melded to whatever group he was in, whether he wanted it to or not.
    He ran into the water, the sprint exhilarating him and making the blood flow. He dove into the ocean when he was far enough out and began to paddle. It must’ve been five minutes before he stopped paddling and looked back to shore, watching the fires flicker in the darkness. What little light remained from the day had disappeared and night was fully descended. The moon lit the ocean a faint white and he sat up on his board. He’d purposely not worn a wetsuit; he preferred the feel of the water directly against his skin. Even when he started shivering, there was something cathartic about it, like he was shaking away the stresses he’d accumulated during the day.
    Something rubbed his leg.
    His heart jumped into his throat and he pulled his legs out of the water. There had been two shark attacks in this section of beach the year before, one of them fatal. He’d never been concerned