Out of Body by Stella Cameron Read Free Book Online Page A

peeling red lacquer dollhouse! “What have you found out so far?” she said, buying time.
    “Not enough, but we will,” Archer said.
    Beside her, Gray Fisher’s hands were curved into fists on his thighs. He’d given up on his notes. His presence, her response to him, alerted her to possible risk.
    “Let’s come at this from another direction,” Archer said. “The locker? What kind of locker?”
    “Like a meat locker,” she said, and swallowed hard. “Revolving hooks inside.”
    Silence.
    “It was cold in there. I saw an atmospheric phenomenon.”
    Gray Fisher coughed. “Meaning?”
    “Condensation, I suppose. Cold air meeting warmer air and billowing like fog.” She puffed at a curl beside her eye. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not scientific—not in the way you think of. Just imagine opening a freezer door and seeing clouds of white vapor rush out.”
    “You sound irritated,” Archer said, too mildly for comfort.
    “That’s because she’s uncomfortable,” Fisher said.
    Marley didn’t want his interpretation of what she might or might not feel, but she kept quiet.
    “Just a minute,” Fisher said.
    Hearing a light scratching at the door, he got up and let Winnie sidle in. She held her bone by one end and dragged it beside her as if it would be less noticeable that way.
    Marley had heard the scratching, too, but she was preoccupied.
    Fisher looked down on Winnie, who attempted to flatten herself to the wall beneath the row of windows. Her wrinkled face pushed up between round eyes so moist, anyone could expect tears, and she gave him a stare filled with an appeal for mercy. She raised first one front foot, then the other, as if abjectly apologetic and expecting to be told off.
    “You shouldn’t leave her outside,” Fisher said. “Anyone could take her.”
    Drawing in a short, furious breath, Marley waited until the man—and he was tall, muscular, and moved with purpose—dropped back into his seat.
    “Winnie wouldn’t let anyone take her,” she said, her voice soft and low. “Winnie is an operator and she just worked a number on you. She wanted in here, and here she is.”
    He shrugged and found his tatty little notebook again.
    “I’m going to tell you exactly what happened,” she said, breathless. “Please just let me say everything before you interrupt.”
    What she was about to do was reckless. “The abduction happened—”
    “Which abduction?” Fisher said.
    “Liza Soaper. It happened early in the morning. Of course, I didn’t know who she was then. I happened to be about because I couldn’t sleep and I like to walk when I think.” Partly true. Mostly untrue. Marley’s mind scrambled. “Liza was, er, kidnapped. I think she was lured into a car. I jumped in a cab and had the driver follow.”
    “What kind of car?” Archer said. “You got the license?”
    She was sinking. “I’m not good at cars and I don’t see well when I’m upset. I think it was a black car, a big one. I didn’t think to look at the license plate.”
    “Great,” Archer said.
    “It was still dark and I was so busy trying to keep the other car in sight, I didn’t notice where we were.”
    It’s so much easier to tell the truth, Marley. That way you never have anything to explain or get embarrassed about. Great, now Mama Leandra’s voice wanted to twist the knife. Her parents—on the rare occasions when she saw them—remained full of pat wisdom, and Papa Antoine usually let his adored wife do most of the talking.
    “Are you reconstructing what happened?” Archer said.
    Marley looked at the makeshift candy dish and swallowed rapidly. “Do you suppose I could have one of those?” She pointed. “I, er, haven’t eaten enough today.”
    A little noise to her left annoyed Marley. “I’m glad you find me funny, Mr. Fisher.”
    “Call me Gray. I was thinking you don’t look as if you ever eat anything much.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I didn’t say you don’t look great. Perfect, in