15 Seconds by Andrew Gross Read Free Book Online Page B

while tears of grief and utter disbelief made their way down my cheeks. I realized now that I couldn’t explain myself. Not any longer. I’d be looked at as a suspect here as well. In two murders now. The first maybe I could explain . . . But this one, completely unrelated, my friend, at the place I had chosen to flee to . . . All they’d have to do was check my phone records to see that I’d just called him. My prints and DNA were probably everywhere.
    Even on his body.
    “Who’s doing this to me?”
    I heard a car drive by, and suddenly I knew I had to get out of there. Now! A housekeeper might show up at any second. Or Gail could come home. My name was already all over the airwaves as a person wanted in connection to a murder.
    How could I possibly explain this one now?
    I ran back to the kitchen and grabbed a cloth and started wiping down anything I could remember I had touched.
    The doors. The coffee mug. Around Mike’s office.
    Him.
    Then I didn’t know if I should have done that. It only made me look as if I was covering up. Made me look guiltier.
    I saw Mike’s cell phone on his desk. I knew it was crazy, but by now mine was probably being monitored by the police and I had to make a few calls. The first one to Liz. She had to know. Oh God, how would I possibly explain this? I felt completely nauseous.
    “Mike . . .” I said, swallowing, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, dude. I know you were only trying to help. I know you—”
    I clasped his lifeless hand. What else was there to say?
    I went out through the garage. Mike’s silver Jag was just sitting there. His Callaways leaning against the trunk. Crazy as it was, I had no other way to get out of there.
    And I couldn’t possibly make myself look any guiltier than I already had.
    I found the key on the front divider, and the engine started up.
    I drove out, closing the garage door behind me. Tears stung in my eyes. I wanted to call Gail and let her know what horror awaited her back at home. But how could I? Until I figured it out.
    I knew, once she heard the news, she’d automatically assume it was me.
    I drove out the driveway and backtracked along the same route I had taken earlier, toward the highway. I had no idea where I was going, or whom I could turn to now.
    In a few minutes I hit I-10 again. I knew I was safe in Mike’s car, at least for a while. But that was going to cave in fast.
    I looked in the rearview mirror, just to make sure there weren’t any cops behind me, and, for the first time, actually focused on the Jag’s rear window.
    Suddenly my eyes tripled in size.
    The window had a decal on it—an image I was sure I had seen before. What the hell is happening, Henry . . . ?
    I pulled over to the side of the highway and spun around, frozen in shock.
    It was the identical image I’d seen on the back plate of the blue car as it pulled away.
    Not a dragon, as I had originally thought. But a kind of bird. With a sharp beak and bright red wings. A long tail.
    A gamecock.
    A mascot. From the University of South Carolina.
    I remembered, Mike’s oldest son was a sophomore there.

Chapter Seven
    T he squat, stub-necked man stepped up to the officer behind the glass, his pink face framed by a felt of orange hair around the sides of his balding head.
    “Amanda Hofer,” he said, and pushed his ID through the opening while the officer took a good look at him. “I’m her father.”
    The duty guard at the Lowndes County Jail inspected it and pushed it back to him. “You can head down to Booth Two.”
    Vance Hofer put his license back in the thick, tattered wallet and stepped through a security checkpoint, taking out his keys and loose change. Then he continued down to the visiting room. It had been a long time, he thought to himself, a very long time since he’d felt at home in a place like this. A lot of things had happened and not many of them good. He eased himself into a chair in the small booth and stared at his