Or was it downstairs?
She pushed the blanket away to go check, but suddenly the sound of someone breathing echoed in the room.
Fear seized her.
Someone was inside her bedroom.
She needed a weapon, but she didn’t have a gun. If she could reach her phone...
She moved her hand to try to grab it off the nightstand, but suddenly the figure pounced on top of her, and a cold hard hand clamped down over her mouth.
“Lewis is dead. If you don’t stop asking questions, you’ll be next.”
Chapter Eleven
A cold chill engulfed Sage.
“Did you do something to my son?” she whispered.
“Just let it go,” he hissed against her ear.
The fear that seized Sage turned to anger. She would never let it go.
Determined to see the man’s face, she shoved an elbow backward into his chest. He bellowed, slid his hands around her throat and squeezed her neck.
Sage tried to scream, but he pushed her face down into the pillow, crawled on top of her and jammed his knee into her back, using his weight to hold her down.
“I warned you.”
Sage struggled against him and clawed at the bedding, but he squeezed her neck so hard that he was cutting off the oxygen. She gasped and fought, but she couldn’t breathe, and the room spun into darkness.
* * *
D UGAN PLUGGED ALL the aliases Ron had used into the computer, then entered the name Janet to see if he could find a match.
The computer scrolled through all the names but didn’t locate anyone named Janet associated with any of the aliases. The name Janelle popped, though.
Janelle Dougasville lived in a small town outside Crystal City, one of the addresses listed for Mike Martin. Dugan checked records and discovered she had a rap sheet for petty crimes and was currently on parole for drug charges. He jotted down the address. He’d pay her a visit first thing in the morning.
If she’d been in contact with Lewis around the time he’d disappeared, she might have known his plans and the reason he’d taken Benji with him.
If he’d known he was in trouble, why take a child with him? A child that would slow him down and bring more heat down on him?
It didn’t make sense.
What if he’d left Benji with someone before the accident? Was it possible he’d dropped him off with an accomplice? Maybe with Janelle?
His phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Not one he recognized, but he pressed Answer. It might be a tip about Benji. “Dugan Graystone.”
“Mr. Graystone, this is D. J. Rankins.”
Dugan frowned. “D.J.?”
“Wilbur’s grandson. I saw you at the house before, when you came and talked to my dad.”
“Right. I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.”
A labored breath rattled over the line. “That’s why I’m calling. You came asking him about his land, and he was real upset. He and Daddy got in a big fight after you and that lady left.”
What was the boy trying to tell him? “What happened?”
“Daddy called Grandpa an old fool for falling for that Lewis man’s scheme, and Grandpa yelled at Daddy to get out, accused Daddy of waitin’ on Grandpa to kick the bucket so he could get his land. Then Daddy grabbed his rifle and stalked off.”
“Was that when your grandfather killed himself?”
A tense minute passed. Then Dugan thought he heard a sniffle.
“D.J.?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I...probably ought not to be callin’. My dad is gonna be real mad.”
But still the kid had called. “D.J., you called because you thought it was the right thing to do. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.”
Another sniffle. “I don’t think Grandpa killed himself.”
* * *
S AGE SLOWLY ROUSED back to consciousness. The room was dark, and she couldn’t breathe. The musty odor of sweat and another smell...cigarette smoke? A cigar? Shoe polish?
Dizzy and disoriented, she rolled to her side and searched the room.
What had happened?
She gasped, her hand automatically going to her throat and rubbing her tender skin as the memory of the intruder surfaced. The
She pushed the blanket away to go check, but suddenly the sound of someone breathing echoed in the room.
Fear seized her.
Someone was inside her bedroom.
She needed a weapon, but she didn’t have a gun. If she could reach her phone...
She moved her hand to try to grab it off the nightstand, but suddenly the figure pounced on top of her, and a cold hard hand clamped down over her mouth.
“Lewis is dead. If you don’t stop asking questions, you’ll be next.”
Chapter Eleven
A cold chill engulfed Sage.
“Did you do something to my son?” she whispered.
“Just let it go,” he hissed against her ear.
The fear that seized Sage turned to anger. She would never let it go.
Determined to see the man’s face, she shoved an elbow backward into his chest. He bellowed, slid his hands around her throat and squeezed her neck.
Sage tried to scream, but he pushed her face down into the pillow, crawled on top of her and jammed his knee into her back, using his weight to hold her down.
“I warned you.”
Sage struggled against him and clawed at the bedding, but he squeezed her neck so hard that he was cutting off the oxygen. She gasped and fought, but she couldn’t breathe, and the room spun into darkness.
* * *
D UGAN PLUGGED ALL the aliases Ron had used into the computer, then entered the name Janet to see if he could find a match.
The computer scrolled through all the names but didn’t locate anyone named Janet associated with any of the aliases. The name Janelle popped, though.
Janelle Dougasville lived in a small town outside Crystal City, one of the addresses listed for Mike Martin. Dugan checked records and discovered she had a rap sheet for petty crimes and was currently on parole for drug charges. He jotted down the address. He’d pay her a visit first thing in the morning.
If she’d been in contact with Lewis around the time he’d disappeared, she might have known his plans and the reason he’d taken Benji with him.
If he’d known he was in trouble, why take a child with him? A child that would slow him down and bring more heat down on him?
It didn’t make sense.
What if he’d left Benji with someone before the accident? Was it possible he’d dropped him off with an accomplice? Maybe with Janelle?
His phone buzzed, and he checked the number. Not one he recognized, but he pressed Answer. It might be a tip about Benji. “Dugan Graystone.”
“Mr. Graystone, this is D. J. Rankins.”
Dugan frowned. “D.J.?”
“Wilbur’s grandson. I saw you at the house before, when you came and talked to my dad.”
“Right. I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.”
A labored breath rattled over the line. “That’s why I’m calling. You came asking him about his land, and he was real upset. He and Daddy got in a big fight after you and that lady left.”
What was the boy trying to tell him? “What happened?”
“Daddy called Grandpa an old fool for falling for that Lewis man’s scheme, and Grandpa yelled at Daddy to get out, accused Daddy of waitin’ on Grandpa to kick the bucket so he could get his land. Then Daddy grabbed his rifle and stalked off.”
“Was that when your grandfather killed himself?”
A tense minute passed. Then Dugan thought he heard a sniffle.
“D.J.?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I...probably ought not to be callin’. My dad is gonna be real mad.”
But still the kid had called. “D.J., you called because you thought it was the right thing to do. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.”
Another sniffle. “I don’t think Grandpa killed himself.”
* * *
S AGE SLOWLY ROUSED back to consciousness. The room was dark, and she couldn’t breathe. The musty odor of sweat and another smell...cigarette smoke? A cigar? Shoe polish?
Dizzy and disoriented, she rolled to her side and searched the room.
What had happened?
She gasped, her hand automatically going to her throat and rubbing her tender skin as the memory of the intruder surfaced. The
Similar Books
