Don't Say a Word (Strangers Series) by Jennifer Jaynes Read Free Book Online Page B

made her feel better.
    She went to the girls’ bedroom door and listened for movement on the other side. But she heard only silence. She studied the space between the carpet and the bottom of the door for a line of light that would indicate someone was awake. There wasn’t one.
    She hesitated, wondering if she should go in. She didn’t want to invade the girls’ privacy, but what if they’d opened their window? She couldn’t be too cautious. She quietly pushed the door open and went inside. Moonlight streamed in from the window, bathing the room in murky light, casting dark shadows on the walls.
    She crept across the room and checked to see if the window was locked. It was. She let her eyes adjust and searched for the girls in the darkness. After a moment, she could see outlines of their bodies on the bottom bunk. They were huddled together and seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
    Next she went to Bitty’s room. She knew that the woman had been up earlier that evening, somewhere between Allie seeing the truck and receiving the phone call from the breather. She’d heard her moving around, the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. She’d also heard the woman’s voice a few times, which meant that she’d been talking to someone, so it was likely the girls had been up, too.
    Allie slipped inside Bitty’s bedroom and checked the window.
    Locked.
    Good.
    Before leaving the room, she studied Bitty in her bed. For once, the woman was too exhausted to rattle around the house all night like she usually did. But it was a relief to see her getting some well-deserved sleep.
    In the kitchen, Allie grabbed one of the dining room chairs to stand on, opened a high cabinet above the fridge, and retrieved a bottle of vodka. She poured three generous shots into a small glass and added a splash of olive juice. Once the chair was tucked back in its place, she turned off the overhead light, bathing the kitchen in complete darkness, and made her way to the kitchen table. She placed her drink on the table and slid the window open a little to enjoy the chilly air.
    She sat and took a sip of her drink, enjoying the bloom of heat as it slid down her throat.
    Ahhh.
    Allie drank only late at night, when the house was quiet. Though life had improved immensely, and she had become much stronger, the constant fear that had become a permanent part of her was still sometimes too much to handle without some kind of release.
    She needed a way to forget for a few minutes . . . to become numb . . . and the vodka did the job. For a few hours, the alcohol would dull the pain that inflamed her mind. The memories of childhood terror and coldness. Her mother’s cruelty. The bad decisions Allie had made both before and after her brother’s death. The person she used to be, who still lurked somewhere inside of her.
    As she stared out at the chilly darkness of the yard and the encroaching woods, she felt the alcohol hit her bloodstream. The thoughts flashing in her head slowed to a manageable crawl.
    She would talk with Bitty in the morning and let her know about the second phone call. Bitty would console her. She’d convince her that there was nothing to worry about. She’d say that someone had simply gotten the number wrong and had tried twice to reach whomever they were trying to call. She’d also explain away the appearance of the truck by saying that another person, someone not connected to the phone calls, had simply gotten lost—although Allie couldn’t remember it ever happening before.
    Bitty would say that there was absolutely no connection between the calls and the truck.
    They were simply coincidences.
    That Allie was just being paranoid.
    Something in the yard snapped. Allie tensed. She stared out, straining her ears to listen, but the night was still. She waited quietly for another sound, but it didn’t come.
    After a while, she relaxed. Of course you heard something, silly , she told herself. A bird. Deer. Raccoon, a squirrel.