Be Mine by Rick Mofina Read Free Book Online

indicate she was in danger, but they might ask district
people to swing by her address.
    This was odd.
    Molly had been on the crime beat long enough to sniff out an
unmarked police car. She’d settle this right now. She’d get the damn plate. She
started toward the vehicle, half a block away. She saw a flash of hands, heard
an ignition.
    “Hey!” She jogged toward it.
    Tires squealed, the car lurched from its spot, pulled a 180-degree
turn, then disappeared.

NINE

     
    The clerk at the twenty-four-hour corner
store stared at his early morning customer, thinking how the dude was
transfixed by the newspapers he’d just bought. Look at him, just standing there
reading.
    “Yo, sir?” The clerk scratched his eyebrow, the one pierced with the
captive bead ring. “Your change.”
    “Keep it.”
    The customer rolled his papers, tucked them under his arm, and left.
    His home wasn’t far from the store. Sipping take-out coffee, he
walked in fear and anticipation. Recent events had unleashed forces beyond his
control, propelling him toward the point in his life where soon he’d unmask the
truth about himself.
    For now, he had work to do.
    He quickened his pace until he reached the place where he lived. It
was quiet. He liked it here but was prepared to relocate if circumstance
compelled him to do so. He was adept at moving fast.
    Inside, he kept the curtains drawn, blocking out the sun. He
preferred darkness as he sat alone before his television, finishing his coffee
by the light of Bay Area morning newscasts. He assessed each paper’s reports on
Inspector Cliff Hooper’s murder. The Star ’s headline stretched six
columns above the fold. HOMICIDE DETECTIVE FOUND SLAIN AT HOME.
    Both the Star and Chronicle had full coverage with
front-page reports, keying to more stories and pictures inside. He locked on a
photo in the Star of Tom Reed with his arm around Molly Wilson at the
Hall of Justice.
    The veins in his neck spasmed.
    Take it easy.
    He looked away in time to catch another TV news update on the
homicide. This one carried file footage from Vince Vincent’s show, Crime Scene,
and focused on Molly Wilson.
    His heart rate ascended. Molly.
    Look at her.
    She took his breath away. Her face, her hair, the fragrant softness
of her skin, the sound of her voice. The way she moved. Something celestial lit
her from within. His stomach knotted whenever he imagined being with her.
    Again.
    Why had he been condemned to this torment? If only they’d never met.
Molly had resurrected an entity he thought he’d entombed years ago in the
darkest catacombs of his mind. With her touch she had brought a dangerous ghost
to life.
    Bleeder.
    Go back. Please. There has to be another way. He rubbed his sweating
hands on the cushioned arms of his chair. He feared Bleeder. Bleeder controlled
him. He struggled but it was futile. Bleeder, please. Please, Bleeder, stop.
There’s still time to go back before any more harm is done. Please. After what
happened with Amy. All those years ago. You promised you would never come back.
Never. I’m begging you to leave, before you make things worse.
    Bleeder cackled from the darkness.
    Forget about that old business, sport. Amy was a mistake. Amateur
stuff. Still, no one ever found out, did they?
    Leave me alone.
    Now, Molly. She’s different. And I’m wiser.
    Shut up.
    Look at her. You’ve never known anyone like her.
    Stop.
    She’s the reason you sent for me. You need me.
    That’s not true.
    Don’t lie to me, sport. She’s triggered your unfulfilled desires and
you will not relent until you possess her totally. That’s where I come in.
    Stop.
    Too late. No turning back now. Look at the news. You’ve set it all
in motion.
    No.
    Molly’s rightfully yours. She stepped into your world just like Amy
did. It went bad with Amy. A mistake. But don’t worry, we won’t let that happen
with Molly. I’m back to help you get it right this time. In fact, I’ll take
over from here.
    Bleeder, please,