Tell Me You're Sorry by Kevin O'Brien Read Free Book Online

the bare trees, she studied the Hamners’ split-level. The house was shrouded in darkness. “I’m looking over at their place right now,” Laurie said. “I can’t see much. The outside lights are off. I don’t see any lights upstairs—”
    â€œAre both cars in the carport?”
    â€œMr. Hamner’s car isn’t there.” Laurie squinted toward a lower-level window. “Looks like the TV’s on in the big room downstairs.”
    Someone was always watching television down there until eleven or so—later on weekends. It was probably Ernie. Whenever Laurie went to bed, she could almost count on seeing the dim flickering TV light in that lower window across the way. It always sort of comforted her to know someone next door was still up—just in case.
    â€œListen—Laurie, I hate to bother you, but I have a feeling something’s wrong over there. I got this weird message from CC on my voice mail an hour ago, and she was cut off. Now no one’s answering the phone. Do you—well, do you see any strange cars parked along the street in front of their house?”
    With the cordless in her hand, Laurie hurried to the living room window to peer out at the street. She never would have asked CC for anything. But the notion that her former friend might be in some kind of trouble had her eager to help. Part of her still desperately needed to prove her worth to CC.
    â€œNo, there’s nothing,” she said, staring outside. “Like I said, I’m pretty sure somebody’s up watching TV right now. Want me to go over there and ring the doorbell?”
    â€œOh, I—I wouldn’t feel right sending you over there, honey.”
    â€œIt’s really no big deal,” Laurie said. “It’ll take—like—two minutes. I’ll call you right back. Or I’ll have CC call you—”
    â€œDo you have a cell phone?” asked CC’s aunt.
    To Laurie, it all seemed pretty elaborate for a simple trip next door. But Stephanie insisted on calling her back on her cell phone—so they could talk while Laurie walked over to check on the Hamners.
    For a minute or two, she wondered if she was on the butt end of some prank. CC still had some creepy friends from her skanky-punk phase a few months back. Laurie was a year behind them in school, and they knew she’d been close to CC at one time. She wouldn’t have put it past any of them to set her up for some mean practical joke. But the woman was calling from area code 503. It had to be real.
    With her sweater on, and CC’s aunt talking to her over the cell phone, Laurie headed out the front door. A cold wind whipped through her as she cut across the leaf-littered lawn toward the street. She listened to the tree branches and bushes rustling.
    â€œIf you see anything unusual—anything that doesn’t seem right—you’ll let me know, won’t you?” CC’s aunt was saying. “I mean it. I don’t want you taking any chances.”
    â€œI’m fine,” Laurie said edgily. The woman was making her nervous. She glanced on either side of her. The street wound through some woods, where all the homes were tucked back at the end of long driveways. Between her house and the Hamners’, the trees and bushes were so thick that at night they created big, black pockets where anyone could have hidden.
    â€œWhere are you now?”
    â€œI’m coming up to their driveway,” Laurie answered with a little tremor in her voice. She heard a twig snap, and stopped in her tracks. She watched for some kind of movement in the thicket between their houses. She didn’t see anyone, not even a raccoon. The trees around her swayed, and Laurie noticed their shadows rippling across the street pavement.
    Suddenly, she didn’t want to go any farther. She wanted to turn and run back home as fast as she could—then lock the door behind her. She