Cold Comfort by Ellis Vidler Read Free Book Online Page A

hurry.

 
    Chapter 4
     
     
    Pinned by her clothes, Claire woke and reached for the light. Pain lanced through her shoulder. Ah, damn. That bastard in the driveway—she wished she'd broken his kneecap. Hunger gnawed at her. Lunch was a distant memory, and she didn't count the few bites of soup at Louie's. The clock on her nightstand—on the far side of her bed—read three ten. Puzzled, she rubbed her eyes and blinked the sleep away. Her belt lay over the chair, but she still wore her clothes. Her head hurt, her shoulder ached, and she had new scrapes and bruises on top of everything else. She ached all over.
    The frigid air cleared her mind and brought it all back. A voice in her head cried, Look out! Blinding headlights blurred her vision. A tremor ran through her. Ben Riley might be a surly so-and-so, but he'd saved her life. Oh, god. The man probably wrote her off as a hysteric and chewed out Ray at the first opportunity.
    How had she come to this? What happened to her quiet life?
    Forcing her protesting body upright by slow degrees, she slid her feet over the side of the bed to the cold floor, then hurried across to her closet. She yanked a long flannel nightgown from a hook and changed quickly into it. Wide-awake, she slid her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers and grabbed her bathrobe.
    Claire felt she'd been dropped into someone else's life. She lifted the worn woolen robe from the hook and pressed it to her face for a second, picturing her mother wearing it. God, how she missed her. She wished she could crawl into those comforting arms once more. Sliding her arms into the sleeves, she winced. "Damn." That shoulder probably needed exercise. She rolled it once. "Ouch." Maybe tomorrow .
    Listening, she hesitated at the door to her room. A shiver of fear snaked up her back. What if he'd come back? Anger at her momentary weakness made her straighten. "What are you doing, Claire? Get a grip." She started down the stairs, determined not to let cowardice guide her actions.
    A dark figure shot out of the living room toward the steps. Dim light from the windows glinted on something.
    A gun!
    Claire screamed.
    The intruder charged up the steps, pushing past her. At her door, he ducked and went in low.
    Claire clung to the banister, rigid with shock.
    "What's wrong?" Riley emerged from her room and flipped on the hall light, exposing his indignant face. "What the hell's the matter with you? Who were you talking to?"
    "What are you doing here?" Her head swam. He could be a crazed serial killer — she hardly knew him. She backed down a step, easing away.
    "Do you talk to yourself? Sleepwalk?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "You woke me up. Who the hell were you arguing with?"
    Maybe they were both crazy. She started down the remaining steps. This being pushed around was getting old fast. "I'm going to the kitchen for something to eat. This is my house." She stopped and turned to him. "You said you'd lock up and leave. Why didn't you?"
    "I didn't think you should be alone until we get some decent locks and an alarm." He shrugged.
    "I'd appreciate knowing if someone's in my house. What if I'd come out with a gun? I'd have shot you." She drew herself up and continued to the kitchen.
    "You don't have one. I checked."
    "What? You searched my house, my things?"
    "How else would I know if you have something worth breaking in for? You don't seem to have any ideas." He followed, caught up with her in two steps. "Hold on. I'm try ing to help you."
    "Ask me before you do anything else. I want you to find out who's behind this, not invade my life." She glanced up at him. Oh, shit. He'd stayed to help her. The scene in the alley surfaced. The flash of anger drained away. "Did you find anything?"
    "No, nothing interesting." He leaned one elbow on the counter and briefly cut his eyes toward the refrigerator.
    She spotted the dishes in the sink. The pot roast container, conspicuously clean, sat on the drain board. She faced him, her