The Silent Boy (Emma McPherson Book 1) A.J. Flynn (ebook reader play store TXT) 📖

“Don’t worry,” she answered, and made her way towards the elevator. Liam stood behind her, waiting and filling in the doorway until she was finally out of sight.

It had grown much colder since she’d first entered the building. She lit a cigarette and started toward the station. The small local businesses along the way were preparing to close for the night, and she wondered to herself ruefully what it must be like to work a normal, eight hour day.

XV

Seeing the kids off had left Karl Fitts with a deep feeling of loneliness. Their excitement and happiness at the thought of a train ride to Grandma’s really got to him. You couldn’t expect kids their age to consider a trip on a train in light of the fact that they would be leaving their father alone, but knowing that didn’t keep it from hurting.

As for Marla, he couldn’t honestly say whether or not he gave a damn if she stayed or went, but as he watched the train pulling away, it hadn’t mattered much. Not like it used to.

She understood how he felt. There had been something like pleading in her eyes, begging him to understand, but how can you understand a woman—who you thought was your life partner—wanting to run away to be with her mother so badly that she was willing to use a boy’s violent death to achieve her end?

That wasn’t a wife. That wasn’t a companion. That was another child in the house.

It was nearing dusk, that most melancholy time of day. The sign over Chandler’s Bowling Alley flickered on as he drove by. That was where him and his team went every Tuesday. At Steve’s Supermarket, where Marla worked, the clerks were moving a large flat of plant beds inside so they could close as soon as the last customer had left.

The Alto was still dark. That was the theater closest to home that they frequented. They brought the kids along on the weekends, whenever a blockbuster or award winning drama was playing; whenever there was something he and Marla wanted to see that wasn’t quite suitable for the children, they hired a sitter.

Warm memories of the many pleasant evenings they’d spent in the district floated through his mind. They had been pleasant enough for him, anyway, but for all he knew Marla might have rather been with her mother.

Marla never wanted to move here, but Karl’s new job paid almost twice what the old one had, and so there wasn’t much she could say. It had meant they were able to buy a home of their own, and give the kids music and dancing lessons, not to mention the extras for themselves.

He knew she would grow homesick, but he figured she would eventually get over it as she acquired new friends. They’d lived here only a little over two years, though, and she had made four trips home in that time, each time staying as long as she dared, so it was plain that the feeling must have been deeper than he had realized.

He stopped at an intersection and shifted gears violently.

“Damn Ella,” he muttered under his breath.

Things that were never brought into the open were a heck of a lot easier to ignore than those brought out into the bright light of discussion. Sure, he’d ignored a lot of things, but things had been a lot happier for him that way. If only Ella would have just kept her damn mouth shut, he could have carried on ignoring them until he was dead.

He pulled onto the road that led to South Pines and examined each house carefully as he passed. He remembered back to how he’d felt the first time he’d turned that corner, after he had made the down payment on the house. He had been so proud, he could hardly contain it.

The kids had been bubbling with questions. Was this their new house, for real? Who would they get to play with? Did they still have to go to school? And if so, where? Even Marla had been chock full of excitement. Well, there sure wasn’t any excitement tonight. It was the same place, and the same surroundings, but it all looked as empty and dark as he was feeling.

Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes and cut the lights.

He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a shadow was moving near the front door.

He closed his eyes tight, trying to adjust them to the dark, and took a second look. He hadn’t been wrong. There in the dark shadow of the portico, there was the form of a man, and he seemed to be messing with the doorknob.

Karl lifted his foot off the brake and allowed the car to coast up to the curb. He lifted the emergency brake and silently, but swiftly, slid out of his seat. He didn’t close the door because of the noise, and he crept carefully across the blacktop of the street. Once across, he stuck to the grass, so that his footsteps wouldn’t give him away, and rushed toward the front door.

The intruder was busy fumbling with the knob on the door and wasn’t aware of Karl’s presence, until he was grabbed violently by the arm and jerked around.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Karl shouted, as he took a swing at the unresisting figure.

His first swing connected with the man’s chin and he fell back onto the walk. The brutal force of the blow had sent him back, and then there was a sickening thud, as his head struck the brick border of the flower bed. The man stopped moving and just lay there like a sack of potatoes, with one leg bent under him at a grotesque angle.

Karl unlocked the door and ran to the telephone. He called the police station and reported having caught a stalker. Maybe it was having something concrete to fight that pleased him, but he felt like he’d just