Closer Than You Think by Karen Rose Read Free Book Online

can’t get it. I’m sorry.’
    ‘But I can’t leave her here. He’ll kill her.’
    ‘If he catches you trying to free her, he’ll kill you both. Now go.’
    Arianna got to the door of the room where she’d been held and took a look back to find Roza holding a bottle made of dark brown glass. ‘Where is my friend?’
    ‘You have to go,’ Roza said urgently. She twisted the lid off the bottle, brought it to her mouth and drank it all.
    ‘What are you doing?’ Arianna cried, horrified.
    ‘I can’t leave. You can. He’ll know I cut your ropes. If you don’t kill him, he’ll beat me. I don’t want to be awake for it. Go. ’
    Arianna stumbled out of the room. There were the stairs. And three other doors. Where was Corinne? Arianna was heading for the first door when the sound of a gunshot made her stop in her tracks.
    He’d had a gun the night he’d taken her and Corinne. He shot me with it. Now he’s killed the meter reader. There wouldn’t be anyone else to come and help them.
    Run. Get help. Before he kills us all . She started up the stairs, tears rising in her throat. I’m sorry, Corinne. I’ll be back for you. I promise .
    Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 2.59 P.M.
     
    He knelt beside the well in the back, pumping water to keep flushing his eyes until he could blink without screaming.
    He sagged against the cold iron of the pump, breathing hard. Goddamn asshole meter reader. Goddamn asshole Faith Frye for calling the power company to start with . Where was she? All he needed was for her to show up right now when he was incapacitated.
    His hands trembled as he took his cell phone from his pocket. He was tired. So damn tired . His arms felt like they weighed six hundred pounds. Each. And his vision was still blurry.
    Squinting at his phone’s screen, he brought up the app that monitored the tracking device he’d put on Faith’s Jeep. It hadn’t moved. At least one thing was going as he’d planned.
    He pushed himself to his feet, forced himself to walk over to Ken’s body. He looked dead enough. But I’m taking no chances, he thought . Fool me twice, shame on me .
    He grabbed a handful of the meter reader’s hair with one hand and shoved his gun to the base of the man’s skull with the other. He pulled the trigger, putting a final bullet in Ken’s brain. Then he found Ken’s cell phone and figured out which contact was his boss.
    Finished with the last house. Feeling sick. Going home early. He hit send . There. It was done. Now he had to get this sonofabitch into the basement and clean up the mess.
    He tried to stand, but his head spun. His knees wobbled. There was a roaring in his head.
    No. That was an engine. ‘Whatza fuck?’ His words were coming out slow. Slurred. He’d only felt like this once before, when he was being anesthetized for surgery.
    Shit. The dart. Ken had tranqed him. He heard the sound of the engine roaring again and forced himself to crawl around the back corner of the house so that he could see the road.
    The power company truck was driving away. Someone had escaped his basement. He could see a vague shape in the driver’s seat. Too tall for Roza, too dark for Corinne Longstreet.
    Arianna Escobar had gotten away. Get her. Stop her. But his body would no longer cooperate. So tired. Dammit . His arms gave out. His chest hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Fuuuck , he thought bitterly as his eyelids lowered and everything went dark.

Chapter Three
     
    Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 4.45 P.M.
     
    F aith’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as she exited the interstate, the blaring noise of traffic giving way to a restless kind of quiet. The bumper-to-bumper traffic and miles of golden arches were suddenly gone, and now there were only trees. As far as the eye could see.
    After a day of constant activity – introductions, paperwork, greetings from new co-workers, calls to utilities and locksmiths and, importantly, the lunchtime purchase