Reading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.Famished by Meghan O'Flynn (most popular novels txt) đź“–
- Author: Meghan O'Flynn
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Book online «Famished by Meghan O'Flynn (most popular novels txt) 📖». Author Meghan O'Flynn
The click of a doorknob caught Petrosky’s attention. He turned to see Bryant Graves entering the room from the garage door, followed by four other agents. Petrosky tried not to think about what might be in the garage. Instead, he watched the four men survey the living room from different angles, their movements practically choreographed.
“Damn, does everyone that girl knows get whacked?” one of the agents asked.
“Pretty much,” said another.
A plain-clothed agent stooped to inspect a chunk of scalp on the floor. Whitish-blond hair waved, tentacle-like, from the dead skin, beckoning Petrosky to touch it.
“You know this guy?” one of Graves’s cronies asked from the doorway.
“Dominic Harwick.” Petrosky nearly spat out the bastard’s name.
“No signs of forced entry, so one of them knew the killer,” Graves said.
“She knew the killer,” Petrosky said. “Obsession builds over time. This level of obsession indicates it was probably someone she knew well.”
But who?
Petrosky turned back to the floor in front of him, where words scrawled in blood had dried sickly brown in the morning light.
Ever drifting down the stream—
Lingering in the golden gleam—
Life, what is it but a dream?
Petrosky’s gut clenched. He forced himself to look at Graves. “And, Han—” Hannah. Her name caught in his throat, sharp like a razor blade. “The girl?”
“There are bloody drag marks heading out to the back shower and a pile of bloody clothes,” Graves said. “He must have cleaned her up before taking her. We’ve got the techs on it now, but they’re working the perimeter first.” Graves bent and used a pencil to lift the edge of the scalp, but it was suctioned to the floor with dried blood.
“Hair? That’s new,” said another voice. Petrosky didn’t bother to find out who had spoken. He stared at the coppery stains on the floor, his muscles twitching with anticipation. Someone could be tearing her apart as the agents roped off the room. How long did she have? He wanted to run, to find her, but he had no idea where to look.
“Bag it,” Graves said to the agent examining the scalp, then turned to Petrosky. “It’s all been connected from the beginning. Either Hannah Montgomery was his target all along, or she’s just another random victim. I think the fact that she isn’t filleted on the floor like the others points to her being the goal, not an extra.”
“He’s got something special planned for her,” Petrosky whispered. He hung his head, hoping it wasn’t already too late.
If it was, it was all his fault.
The pre-dawn humidity covered the freeway in frozen mist. I glanced at the clock. Seven forty-five. I should be there before nightfall. I set my jaw and fingered the emerald pendant that lay against my clavicle, warmed by the heat of my body.
A whimper rose from the backseat. In the rearview mirror, a massive black head eclipsed the back window.
“It’s okay, buddy. Just relax. We’ll be there in no time.”
Duke slumped onto his belly on the seat and rested his head on his paws. On the dash, the panda bobbled, silly and childish and stupidly innocent. I backhanded it. It toppled to the floor.
I gripped the wheel tighter.
Before me, the brilliant red and yellow glow of sunrise streaked across the road and illuminated the tops of distant evergreen trees, lighting the sky with hope, with promise.
It’s not promise. It’s power.
I slid my hand underneath the bag on the passenger seat and let my fingers brush the cool metal of the scalpel. I squeezed. The sharp point bit into my finger. I pulled my hand back and watched a tiny crimson drop swell and drip onto the steering wheel. I smeared it with my thumb.
Duke whined, low and hollow.
“It’s okay, boy,” I said softly. “It won’t be long now.” The pavement whispered under my tires. I kept my eyes on the bloody dawn.
Baby’s coming home.
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PRAISE FOR THE ASH PARK SERIES
“Dark, gritty, and raw, O’Flynn’s Ash Park series will take your mind prisoner. This series will keep you awake far into the morning hours.”
~Kristen Mae, bestselling author of Red Water
“Haunting…the Ash Park series should be everyone’s next binge-read.”
~NYT bestselling author Andra Watkins
“Visceral, fearless, and addictive, this series will keep you on the edge of your seat.”
~Bestselling author Mandi Castle
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