Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

achieved what he’d always presumed unobtainable. The piece of him that was missing had been so close, but now it had slipped through his fingers like fine white sand.

Making his way slowly up the stairs, Robert took extra care to avoid the ones that always groaned loudly even with the lightest weight. He had to be silent. Always silent...

Biting down hard to keep his concentration in focus, his jaw ached, but concentration was something he was good at. Probably the only thing, apart from computers. He could excel at those without attracting strange or confused looks, but what did he have now?

Now he was a murderer, he’d lost his job, couldn’t return home, had a father who hadn’t been his father and to top it all, had resumed feeling nothing about anything – including the one thing that had made him feel something – Teagan. And there was only one person responsible for every single one of those facets of his ruined life.

Reaching the doorway of his mother’s bedroom, Robert’s eyes narrowed. As predicted, she was having her afternoon nap. His skin crawled with the list of things and people she’d manipulated. The people she’d ruined. The people she had killed. And all because of something she believed, or rather said, was down to love. Love? There was no such thing. More like greed. Greed and personal gain.

Well, he didn’t believe in greed or personal gain, he wanted payback for what he could have had.

Robert glanced at his watch. Would the window of time be enough? Were his calculations accurate? Things had to be perfect. Nothing else would suffice.

But before he could do what he’d come to do, there was one other thing he needed and, if he wasn’t mistaken, it shouldn’t be too far away.

Treading lightly along the corridor, Robert poked his head around two of the neighbouring bedrooms. One of these rooms would be where the usurper was staying... Knowing his mother, she’d want her latest pet project close. Seeing a bag that was neither his, nor Dulcie’s on the floor in the corner of the next but one room, he knew he was right.

Robert moved straight to the chest of drawers and opened the top one. His face morphed into a scowl. Heath hadn’t wasted any time putting his things away, had he? And they were his things, Robert noticed, eyeing a folded pale blue shirt that he knew straightaway was one of his own.

His anger increased. His mother had not only moved this lying scrote in as a replacement for him, but also dressed the imposter in his clothes? She should have picked more wisely. Heath Pointer had abused her hospitality and generosity in the very worst way. At least, that’s what it would look like.

Pulling a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, Robert forced them over his large hands, scowling at the shiny plastic feel against his skin. He grabbed a brush from the top of the chest of drawers and teased a couple of strands of hair caught between the prongs. He didn’t need much – even one would do.

Pulling the bedroom door to behind him, he strode back along the landing to the room where his mother slept, holding the strands of hair in front of him at arms’ length, like a diseased animal.

He paused outside the door, listening for the sounds of Dulcie’s breathing. It was slow, steady. Still asleep.

Robert slowly pushed the door open and focused his eyes on his mother lying on the embroidered bedspread, her tiny frame dwarfed by the wooden headboard of the antique queen-sized bed. Like ‘The Princess and the Pea’...

He swallowed a chuckle. None of this was funny, but it would be. When it was over, it would be more than funny as well as being a relief.

Stealthily edging into the room, Robert kept an eye on Dulcie, soft snores coming from her open mouth, her bony chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Brushing the strands of hair onto the bedspread, he methodically inspected his gloved hands, then smiled slowly as he pulled open the top drawer of her chest of drawers. It was encouraging to see nothing had been rearranged since he’d placed everything back where it belonged.

Grabbing a pale silk stocking from the back of the drawer, he scrunched it in his hand. These stockings – another memento from her vile days at the Feathers. The perfect accessory for the job in hand.

Making sure the sheer stocking was rolled tightly, Robert moved to the head of the bed and without further hesitation, shoved it into Dulcie’s open mouth, pushing it to the back of her throat with a thick finger.

Dulcie’s eyes immediately shot open, her expression firstly shock, then relief to see her son, before fast changing to fear when she realised she was choking.

‘Don’t struggle,’ Robert hissed, holding a spare pillow against Dulcie’s torso. He could not leave marks on her body, but she must remain still. Making sure he didn’t break eye contact, he waited. He wanted, no, needed her to know it was him who was finishing this. After all the lies and betrayal, it was his turn...

A ghost of a smile broke across Robert’s face. She hadn’t thought he’d do this. Never in all of her schemes would she think of this being on the cards.

Well, mother, there was only so much one could take...

The muffled squawks coming from Dulcie’s mouth caused nothing but irritation and Robert scowled inwardly. He might have known she’d drag things out. Nothing was ever easy, but he wouldn’t waver. Not after what she’d done. ‘I might have considered forgiving you if you’d apologised,’ he said wistfully, glancing at his watch again. ‘But you didn’t...’

With a remote expression, Robert watched the life force drain from the woman who had ruined everything. ‘Goodbye, mother,’ he muttered coldly.

Satisfied it was done, Robert replaced the pillow and wandered to the window to gaze out over the garden – the one where he’d found solace before realising normal life was