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Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
An astonishing number of readers read mystery and crime.
The peculiarities of such constant attention to mystery and crime by the most diverse readership has been and remains the subject of numerous studies.
But seriously, a detective mystery should matted the reader. However, readers are very different: some try to guess who the killer is, others try to figure out the killer using mathematical methods, and others prefer to get pleasure only by turning the last page.
On the other hand, the law of the genre requires that a mystery and crime doesn’t cover all areas of a person's life at once. A crime puzzle should not be likened to love or historical novels. Only full concentration on the plot! In the same way, the atmosphere of fear, anxiety and horror gradually thickens in the thriller.
The cornerstone of the reader's well-deserved interest mystery and crime is that the criminal is doomed to suffer the punishment he deserves. This is the logic of the detective form. Otherwise, the reader will be dissatisfied and even annoyed.
Naturally, you can’t create a perfect story of mystery and crime . The author must inevitably sacrifice something of his own, but he must have some higher value that would fundamentally distinguish him from other authors. The works of Hammett, Chandler, McDonald, Cain, Stout, containing such peculiar "Emeralds", from generation to generation remain interesting for millions of fans, young and old.


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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » Abby by C Mari (books you have to read TXT) 📖

Book online «Abby by C Mari (books you have to read TXT) 📖». Author C Mari



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Chaper 1 - Attacked



“Cats Bridge Sheriff's Department.” The woman on the other end of the phone answers in a calm tone. I can tell instantly who she is as I imagine her wrinkled face and fiery red hair.
I run down my hallway towards my bathroom, ignoring the pain from my recent stab wounds.
“Joan! He’s here! He’s in my house!” I scream to the lady on the other end of the phone.
“Abby, is this you?” Joan asks in a frantic voice. I can hear her typing on her keyboard in a hurry. I know she just sent help to me and for a split second I feel a little relieved.
“He killed Luke.” I cry as I  lock my bathroom door behind me. My mind is too frantic to think rationally; I just want help.
“Okay, they’ll be right there, Abby. Just hold tight, honey. They will be there.” Joan tries to comfort me.
The entire police department of our small Virginia town knows me because I once dated one of their own.
“Don’t hang up. Don’t leave me.” I beg with sobs.
“I won’t, Abby. I won’t.” She begins.
“I wanted to help him.” I cry to her. “I thought I could help him.”
“You--” Joan starts to say but is cut off with a click. I look at my telephone. It's dead. Nothing happens when I try to make it work.
He cut it off. I know he did. He doesn't want me to call for help. I still feel a little hopeful because I know they're coming for me.
Then, I hear the banging on my bathroom door. He's trying to get in.
I huddle up in my bathtub. Please, someone hurry. I clutch my phone for dear life.
“I’m sorry.” I mumble to myself as I let tears fall.

***



I look at the inside of the sheriff's department building from the snow-covered balcony. It's late winter and freezing outside, but the balcony is the only place I can go to have some peace and quiet.
Everybody on the inside is running around like a chicken with their head cut off. A few of them stop and look at me.
They're looking for me. Is there something that they can't handle themselves?
Not that I feel superior to my brothers and sisters on the force, but where would they be without me?
Two of them approach the balcony fearfully.
“Sir,” Joan passes through the both of them, nearly shoving them aside. Her red hair, turning slightly silver, blows with the wind as she opens the door to the balcony; her wise brown eyes look into mine with compassion, making my body fear what it is I don’t know. Her steps crunch through the pure snow as she approaches me.
I am now full of fear. Something is terribly wrong.
“What is it?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant.
“I’ve already sent out a squad. They should be there now.” Joan says, avoiding the immediate answer.
“What are you talking about?” I ask; my nerves aren’t able to take the suspense.
“There was a break in. I got the call about five minutes ago.” Joan explains.
I let my nerves calm slightly. “Well if that’s it and there’s already another squad there, then why are you telling me?” I ask, still not feeling completely comfortable.
“The call came from Abby.” She blurts. My blood runs cold as soon as Joan says her name. Abby? I wasn't prepared for that.
I bolt past Joan and the other two, going all the way down to the parking lot to get my squad car.
Joan is trying to follow me, probably wanting to talk me out of it, but the only thing that is on my mind right now is getting to Abby.
As soon as I get to my car, I flip my sirens on and speed out of the police headquarters. Even though I'm already speeding down to road, it doesn't seem fast enough; not when I know Abby might be in trouble, or hurt--or worse.
No. I have to stay calm; for Abby’s sake.
When I finally reach Abby’s house, I jump out of my car, barely turning it off.
There are already other squad cars surrounding her house, but I dare not take a sigh of relief until I see her safe.
I know my way around Abby’s house perfectly. Her cherry wood door has been kicked in off of its hinges; an obvious sign of forced entry.
I make my way into the front hallway. Memories come flooding back. I try to push away the memories of the fighting and the confrontation that had separated us nearly two months ago.
The house looks in shambles with most of Abby’s furniture destroyed.

To the right is her living room. Yellow number markers are sitting around the broken coffee table and glass and blood stained carpet.

I feel myself starting to get sick and weak.
As I go farther into her house, my heart stops as I hear the zip of a body bag.
The sound had comes from the left of me; from the kitchen. I make my way there to see other officers piling out of the room and Sal squatting over the blue bag.
Sal is tall and in his mid-forties with sandy blond hair and brown eyes.
“I heard you two had been in an argument.” Sal says in his New York City accent as he stands up to face me. Now knowing it was her body lying there in front of me, I crumple to floor in grief. Sal comes over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder in sympathy.
“Is there anything you wish to say to her?” Sal asks. I am unable to reply through my tears and sobs. After not receiving the reply he wanted, Sal continues. “You should tell her. She’ll hear you out.” He carries on as I cry helplessly.
How could she hear me out? She's gone and will never hear what I have to say again. 

What would I even say? I'm sorry? I never stopped loving you? This whole fight was stupid? Plese forgive me?

Did any of that even matter know? The only thing that matters is---
“Alright,” Sal sighs. “You better go tell her. She just left in an ambulance."

"What?" I almost yell through my surprise, halting my tears immediately.

"I heard she had been hiding in the bathtub until Pete arrived. They took her to the hospital immediately. Her injuries weren’t fatal but she was in shock.” Sal says everything in a rush, just like he was talking about any other case.

I bolt upright to stand. “That’s not funny, Sal! You have a sick sense of humor!” I yell at him.
“You don’t know what you have until it’s gone, son.” Sal says and then continues like nothing just happened. “As for this boy here; his name was Luke Bulkski. He was stabbed with what looks like glass from the coffee table. From the blood trail, I think he made it this far trying to stop whoever was after Abby. I will tell you more when I can.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not on the case.” I say over my shoulder as I turn to leave to go to the hospital just as fast as I can.
“But I don’t know that!” Sal yells back at me. “Besides, wouldn’t you like to know about the man who was in Abby’s house? I know I do!”
He is right. I do want to know about the man; mostly because a man in her house other than myself makes me cringe with jealousy but, for now, I will go with the reason that it is for Abby’s protection.
My jealousy can wait until later. The only priority right now is getting to Abby.

 

I leave my car in the front of the hospital, not bothering to even park as I walk in. I don't have time to talk to the secretary. I'm still in a rush to see Abby. Even though I know she is safe, I have to see for myself. Then maybe I can relax.

I reveal my badge to the lady at the desk. "Where are they?" I ask in my angry, I'm-not-in-the-mood tone.

"Third floor; to the right; can't miss 'em." She answers in her own not in the mood tone.

That's that and I go to the third floor. The secretary was right. As soon as I get off of the elevator I see two of my other officers are standing outside of what must be Abby's door. One of them see me and taps the other.

They both look. It's Pete and Tracy. They must be leading this case.

"I just want to see her." I explain as I approach them.

"She's not even in there right now. She's in surgery." Tracy says. There is understanding in her bitchy as always voice. She has to have attitude being partnered to Pete, who is an even bigger bitch than she is.

I find out what they're waiting on when the doctor comes around the corner to them.

"Owen, we were just about to call you." Dr. Poplin smiles at me.

"I'm still her emergency contact?" I sigh with relief. This means I won't have to play the badge in order to get somewhere.

"We managed to stop the bleeding. She'll be fine but she's asleep. We gave her some medication for the pain."

"Then we'll go back to her house. Owen, call us when she wakes up." Pete orders.

I hardly listen to him because as they're leaving I see nurses bring Abby back to her room. Her light brown hair is matted and tangled and she looks peacefully asleep. I can't take my eyes off of her for many reasons.

I haven't seen her in what feels like so long; I was so worried I never want to let her out of my sight again; she's so beautiful; and I almost forgot what this love felt like.

Chapter 2 - Recollection

I wake up and all I know is I'm afraid. Where am I? What happened? I look around. I'm in a bed; the lights are very bright, too bright; the room is small and it's-- it's a hospital room?

Why am I in the hospital? I sit up and pat around the bed, searching for my cell phone. There's somebody lying with there head on my bed.

"Luke?" I begin to whisper his name and shake him. I'm stopped by the familiarity of someone else. The color of his hair, the shade of his skin, his over all scent, it nearly drowns me. It's not Luke's at all; it all belongs to him.

My breath catches in my stomach. I struggle to breath over the anxiety from seeing him. I feel tears fall and I try hard to stop them. Why does he do this to me? I can't be as strong as I want to around him.

My breathing turns into sobs against my will. My leg is warm where his face is resting on my thigh. Trying

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