Dead Girl Moon by Charlie Price Read Free Book Online Page B

Could be anything from a bracelet to an iPod. She put the phone away, knowing that her brake lights would signal her decision, and concentrated on spotting the unlit gap in the tree cover. Tiny rocks pinged off her undercarriage as she edged off the road and moved forward to give the trailing car room to pull in.
    Looking in the mirror all she could see was the glare of his headlights. She tried to see if she was right about the voice, but he kept in the headlight shine as he walked toward her. All she got was the dark silhouette.
    He stopped before he reached her window. “Come on out. I don’t want to reach it through.”
    “Only for a minute.”
    “Sure.”
    She opened the door and swung her legs out, started to stand and got jerked off her feet as he tugged her the rest of the way out. She got a whiff of alcohol as he pulled her close.
    “Wha—”
    He hit her hard in the ribs and doubled her over. Pulled her upright immediately.
    She got air and tried again. “Why are—”
    He shook her, making her teeth rattle. “You think you’re so goddamn—”
    It was a reaction. She didn’t even think as she slapped him as hard as she could, right in the face. She didn’t see his return punch coming but she felt it ruining her jaw and then a blinding pain in the back of her head.
    He was not expecting her to crumple. He grabbed her by the shoulders, hauled her up and shook her again. Her head rolled side to side with no resistance. She was out cold. He looked at her more closely, held her up in front of him. She was limp. Worse, she didn’t seem to be breathing.
    When he lowered her to the ground he noticed the dark spot on the window. More closely, he saw ooze and a bit of hair at the top corner of the car door that had been left open in the tussle. If the back of her head hit that when he punched her … He touched the point. Blood. On the metal edge and on the rubber insulator, and drops, the first one he’d already seen, inching down the window. He knelt and turned her head to the side. More blood, a lot of it in her hair and down her neck. Put his ear to her lips. Nothing. To her nose. Nothing. Hand on her diaphragm. Nothing.
    Shit!
    Still kneeling beside her, he looked both ways. Headlights just coming around the curve maybe a half mile ahead. He took her wrists, pulled her away from the road and over to the far side of his vehicle. Jumped in, jammed off his headlights, started his engine. Jumped out and ran to open his passenger door. Lifted her into the seat. Hustled back and made a right turn onto the dirt road, goosed it and coasted, engine off now, into a nook in the trees. Hit the parking brake hoping it wouldn’t flash his rear lights. Seconds later the eastbound car whirred past.
    When he ran back to the highway, it was clear in both directions. He had at least thirty seconds. He slid into her seat, started her car and reversed it into the unpaved road, peering through her rear window to guide him. In the nightglow he was able to pick up the lighter color of the graded dirt as he moved maybe a hundred yards down until another recess presented itself. He put it in drive and wheeled the sedan forward far enough to conceal it from the highway. Where did this road go? He may have been on it fishing once or twice, thought it went in another mile or so to a ranch and barn not far from the Clark Fork. It would do.
    He grabbed her purse and coat and ran with them, opening his door and tossing them in on top of her. Got in. Got out and ran back to her car tearing his shirt off, then his T-shirt, and used that to wipe down her door handle and steering wheel and gear shift with a swipe at the keys. Ran back, made a U, and headed west on the highway.
    He was breathing so hard the windshield was fogging. He lowered the windows and the cool air braced him, like a slap, getting his attention. Brief picture: Standing holding the bars in a cell the size of a coffin. Not him. That wasn’t going to happen.
    First, dump