Stand by Becky Johnson Read Free Book Online Page A

Mostly I thought about what I wanted for lunch.
    I saw the package waiting on my front steps when I pulled into my driveway. I didn’t question it. My fear meant that I avoided shopping and going to public places if possible, so I frequently have things delivered. Once I was parked inside my garage I ran through my normal security checklist, then I went inside. After greeting Max and Kitty, I took Max out for a walk. When we returned from his bathroom break I brought the package inside with me, and carried it to the kitchen table. I felt happy to be home, put on some music, and began making a bowl of soup. While the soup heated I got the kitchen shears to open the box on the table.
    I hummed along with Fall Out Boy and did a little dance around my kitchen, feeling pretty good, all things considered. A few quick cuts and the box was opened.
    My breath stopped in my throat like a hand was slowly squeezing while my heart rabbited away, thudding in my ears. I didn’t hear the shears clang to the floor. I backed away from the box and its contents. Inside was a pile of clothing, a perfect match to what I stood there wearing. But it was stained with dark red blood and topped with bloody knife.
    A strangled scream caught in my throat. Max jumped up from where he lay on the floor and ran to my side. I could hear him barking, but it seemed as though it came from a distance. I backed from the kitchen with a hand on Max’s head and sucked air into my starving lungs.
    My shaking hands could barely function to take my phone off its lock screen. I had to take several deep breaths before I could calm enough to call Jack.
    It was less than half an hour before I heard his knock on the door as he urgently rang the doorbell simultaneously. He got there in record time. He must have broken a few traffic laws in order to arrive so quickly.
    I didn’t say anything when I answered the door. If I spoke, I would have cried, and that was something I refused to do. I just let him inside, locked the door again, and set the alarm behind him. We went to the kitchen. The box lay exactly as I had opened it. Jack slipped on a pair of gloves before touching the box. He picked up the knife and looked through the clothes underneath. As it had first appeared, the entire outfit was identical to what I was wearing today, and every single item was covered in blood. It seemed fairly obvious that I was being threatened. There was no more place for denial.
    “My supervisor will definitely open a case now. I don’t know if he will let me take lead, but they’ll open a case. Are you going to be okay?”
    He looked at me eye to eye. It took me a minute to answer.
    “I am.” Now that I stood firm inside, I was surprised by how sure I felt. “She wants me scared, and I am not going to lie. I am scared, but … I won’t be forever. I won’t let her control me.” My words were mostly bravado, but I was determined to make them truth. It helped that Jack was taking the box with him. It was evidence now.
    That night I dreamed of death. My own death.

 
    Chapter 9
    Training the next day was brutal. I won’t bore you with the details, but it was not fun. Moshe and Skeet ran me through a whole volley of defensive maneuvers. They kept me working for four hours. By the time I went home I was beyond exhausted.
    My home phone was ringing when I walked in the door. But when I finished my security routine and answered the phone there was only a dial tone. I hung up, and it rang again immediately. I stared at it for a minute before I answered.
    “Hello?” There was no answer.
    “Hello?”
    “Charlotte Marshall.” My name was said in a low whisper.
    “Who is this?”
    “Is this Charlotte Marshall?” The same whisper as though to disguise the real voice.
    “Who is this? What do you want?”
    “You need to stop asking questions. They are starting to notice.”
    “Who’s noticing? What are they noticing?”
    “You need to stop asking questions about James Barnes.