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Read books online » Fiction » A murderers worst nightmare by Ash Knight (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📖

Book online «A murderers worst nightmare by Ash Knight (best thriller novels of all time .txt) 📖». Author Ash Knight



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Prologue


"Daddy?" Jamie asked, whispering so the faceless men couldn't hear them.
"Shh, I know this is scary baby, but I need you to listen to me." He said, picking her up of the ground.
The moon wasn't out tonight. It was hiding. The forest was like a maze of darkness with endless dangers.
"Daddy, are those the same men who hurt mommy? The ones that made it so she had to go to Heaven and be an angel before she was suppose to?"
Her father stared at her for a moment, worrying about his baby. He had already lost his wife, if he lost his baby girl too, he didn't know what he'd do.
"Yeah, they are, baby. Listen, daddy needs you to do something. Do you think you can, Jamie?" He whispered.
"Ok, what do I do?" She asked.
"I need you to go back to town and get the Chief of police for me. I want you to get him and bring him back here. Tell him I'm with the men who hurt mommy, and that he has to come right away. Can you do that?" He whispered, wanting desperately to grab her and make a run for it. But his stubborn pride was preventing him from going after the ones who had taken his Susan from him.
"You can't come with me?" She asked, instantly scared of having to leave him with the faceless men.
"No, baby, but Chief Renaldo will listen to you. When I say go you run, ok? No arguing, no waiting, you run, and run fast, baby."
"Ok." She said, promising to herself that she would come back in time to keep daddy from having to be an angel early too.
"Wait here." He said, slipping deeper into the shadows. A moment later he appeared at the edge of the clearing, his only a weapon being Jamie's old wooden baseball bat.
"Hey! Who are you?" One of the faceless men demanded.
"My name is Ralf Foster," He answered calmly, now that he had every one of the men’s' attention. "And I'm Susan Foster's husband. You are?"
"My name is Budd, and I'm going to have to kill you." The biggest one said, moving to stand right in front of Ralf.
"I'm not scared of you. And I'm not going to run." Ralf answered, looking toward her, giving the signal in a subtle but risky fashion.
"Oh? Well, that just means your stupid."Budd said.
Jumping up and turning on her heel, Jamie heard the sounds of men grunting, heard her father scream, her a gun go off, but didn't once look back. She had to get to Chief Renaldo, and save daddy.
Before she was out of hearing range though, she heard another shot, and another, then she heard Budd say; "Not so tough now, are you?" Another shot accompanied the words, and Jamie knew she was too late. But she couldn't stop running.
She ran straight to the Chief of police and grabbed his hand, yelling her excuses as she pulled on him. Then telling it calmly when he and the rest of the cops came back with a big black bag.
She knew daddy was in the bag, but she didn't cry. She stood there with her head held high, but one lonely tear escaped her blinking lashes to slip down her cheek when Renaldo put a hand on her shoulder.
She would never cry another tear, she vowed to herself, not even on the day she would die. Crying was for the weak, and she wasn't weak. She was six, but she was tough as nails. She wouldn't cry.
She wouldn't, no, couldn't.
She couldn't cry, never again.


Chapter One


Jamie woke from the dream in a cold sweat, as usual. But this time it had been different, she hadn't just heard the gunshots, she'd felt them.
One bullet to the right knee, then the left, then, after Butt's little comment, the final one...straight through the heart.
The same dream for almost twelve years. One more week of it and it would be exactly twelve years.
Ever since the night of the death of her father, she had had the same dream over and over, every night of every month, of every year. Nothing else, not when she was moved to a foster home, not when both her new parents committed suicide, not when Ana adopted her, never, it was always the same dream.
Slowly she recovered her breath and looked at the clock, with its blood read numbers. It was two in the morning, two thirteen if you wanted to be picky about it. Jamie didn't, she really never cared for specifics.
Ana would be asleep still, so she was free to prowl the house as she usually did after The Dream. Ana didn't mind it, she never had.
As Jamie got up and dragged on the jeans she had beside her bed and remade her bed with it's black comforter and sheets, putting the little dark blue pillow in the middle of the bed. Ana had bought it for her the first week she had been here, she had been ten, and Ana had foolishly sought to change her taste.
Closing her door behind her, Jamie made her way down the stairs to the living room to go through the books on the mantel above the fireplace.
She had never really understood Ana, with her love of light, solid colors, her interest only in books of mothers and they're children. Her dislike of dark colors and undisguised repulsion of spilled blood.
But, no matter their differences, Ana was her only friend. ‘Friend’ might not have been the best description, but it was a description. Ana had tried to be a mother to her, had tried to replace the one Jamie had lost. But no one could take Jamie’s mother’s place, no one.
Jamie knew that her looks weren't what kept most people away.
She had a classic kind of beauty. Long, wavy, black hair, usually up in a ponytail. Big almond shaped eyes, that were a mixture of blue and violet. A straight, pert, nose. Tanned skin, that came from her Apache grandfather, soft to the touch. She had long, curvy, legs, her nails were very nicely manicured (it was the only thing Ana did insist on) and she was slim with lightly toned muscles.
What kept most people away, was the fact that those blue-violet eyes held a barely reined in temper, and a very simple way of showing it. When Jamie didn't like someone, she made it a point to let them know it.
There were many ways to provoke the temper she just barely held in check, one of the most common was for someone to give her an order. No one did that, unless they were looking for a fight, and a bloody one at that. Ever since her fathers death, she had not taken orders, and, she remembered with a smile, the last person stupid enough to think they could boss her around learned that lesson real quick.
She couldn't stop the laughter that spilled from her as she remembered the poor fellow. He had been on two dates with her and decided that he wanted to introduce her too a few of his friends. So, for they're third date, he had had a party, and invited every one of his friends. About half way through the party, He decided he and his friends wanted drinks, so, he had told her to go get them. Big mistake. When he ordered her to after they fought about it, she went and got the drinks. She had walked up to him, and tapped his shoulder. He had turned around and earned a face full of root beer for his efforts.
To make matters worse, for him, his parents walked in right after she had finished her little stunt with the soda. They had been furious with him for throwing a party without they're consent. To bad for him they had gotten that 'anonymous' phone call. After they had cleared everybody out, they had thanked her for the call, and congratulated her on her aim with the soda.
That night had been the highlight of the year.
Served him right, she thought, as she remembered the look on his face when she had sprayed him with the soda. She was standing there laughing when Ana came in, looking rathe flustered and more than a little confused.
"Is something wrong, Jamie?" Ana asked, coming to stand next to her cautiously.
"No, sorry if I woke you, Anastasia." She said, pulling herself together.
"Jamie, I thought we had gone over this. You may call me Ana, but never Anastasia. It is far too formal for my liking, you have been living with me for almost eight years next week."
"Sorry, Anasta-"
Ana cut her off with a raise of her silver-gray brow.
"I mean, Ana. I'm sorry, Ana." Jamie said.
"Much better. Now, do tell me, what is it that is so humorous?"
"I was just remembering The Great soda boy party. Remember?"
"Yes actually, I do remember. Why did you spray that young man with soda, Jamie?"
"He told me to go get him and his friends drinks, but I told

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