Twice Dead - Catherine Coulter [54]
She loaded her Coonan .357 Magnum automatic, slipped it in the pocket of her jacket, and walked to the woods where she’d confronted Adam two days before. Had it really been only two days? She sat down in front of the tree where he’d been doing his tae kwon do exercise. She looked at the spot where she’d stood, pointing her gun at him, so afraid she’d thought she’d choke on it. But she hadn’t had time to shoot or to choke. He’d kicked the gun out of her hand before she could draw two breaths. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the tree. Would the stalker have as easy a time with her as Adam? Probably so.
She closed her eyes and let her mind shut down. She saw her mother, laughing down at her—she couldn’t have been more than seven years old and she was trying to do a cheerleading chant. Then her mom had showed her how to do it and it had been so wonderful, so perfect. Her mother’s laughter, so sweet, filling her, making her warm and happy. She rubbed her wrist where Adam had kicked the gun out of her hand. It didn’t hurt, but there was memory of the cold numbness that had lasted for a good five minutes. Where was he? Why had he left?
Adam was back at Jacob Marley’s house and he was so scared for a moment he couldn’t think. She was gone. The door was open but she was gone. There were even two lights on but she was gone. The stalker had gotten her. No, no, that was ridiculous. He was the only one who had found her.
He searched every room in the house. He saw his carryall lying on top of his bed. It looked like she’d started unzipping it and then, for whatever reason, had walked out of the room, leaving it there for him to see.
Why? Where had she gone? Her car was in the driveway, so she couldn’t have gone far ... unless someone took her.
Don’t panic. She’d gotten a call, something of an emergency. She’d gone to Tyler’s house. It had to do with Sam. The kid was sick, yeah, that was it.
But she wasn’t there, no one was home. He drove by the Food Fort, the gas station, the hospital but he didn’t see her, he could drive all over this town and not find her.
He drove slowly back to the house. He cut the engine and sat in his black Jeep, his forehead against the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
Where are you, Becca?
He didn’t know why he raised his head and twisted around to look toward the woods. And in that instant he knew she was there. But why? It took him three minutes to find her.
She was asleep. He came up on her very quietly. She didn’t stir. She was leaning against the tree trunk, her right hand in her lap. She was holding the Coonan, its polished silver stock gleaming from the slashes of sun through the tree branches.
Had he seen that flash of silver? He didn’t know how he could have, yet he’d known she was there. Why couldn’t he have had this marvelous intuition before he’d scared himself spitless?
He came down on his haunches. He looked at her, wondering what had made her come out here. He saw dried tear streaks down her cheeks. Everything had gotten to be too much for her, and no wonder. She looked pale, too thin. He looked at her fingers curled around the trigger of the Coonan, at her nails, short and ragged. He touched his fingertips to her cheek. Her flesh was soft to the touch. He lightly stroked her cheek. Then, slowly, he shook her shoulder.
“Becca. Come on, wake up.”
She came awake instantly at the sound of a man’s voice, the Coonan up and ready to fire. She heard him curse, then felt the gun fly out of her hand. Her wrist was instantly numb. “Not again.”
“You nearly shot me.”
It was Adam. She looked up at him and smiled. “I thought it was him. Sorry.”
His heart began to slow. He eased down beside her. “What’s up?”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. I couldn’t find you and I nearly lost my mind trying to figure out where you were. You scared me, Becca. I thought he’d taken you.”
“No, I’m here. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. So how’d you find me?”
He shrugged. He didn’t want to tell her that he knew very suddenly exactly where