A Perfect Evil Read Free Page A

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    Her fingers twisted into his short, thick hair. She yanked hard, the streak of pain surprising him. Then she pulled his face back to her breasts. In the dim light, he noticed that the triangle of tanned skin was crooked. The point overlapped onto the underside of her breast. What was wrong with him? A beautiful blonde wanted him. Why didn’t her breathless anticipation arouse him? He needed to focus. It all felt too mechanical, too routine. Nevertheless, he would compensate again using his fingers and tongue. After all, he had a reputation to maintain.
    He began the descent down her body, devouring her with kisses and nibbles. Her body squirmed beneath his touch. She was writhing and gasping for breath even before his teeth tugged at her lace panties. He kissed his way to the inside of her thighs. Suddenly, a sound stopped him. He strained to hear from under the bedcovers.
    “No, please don’t stop,” she groaned, pulling him back into her.
    There it was again. Pounding. Someone was at the front door.
    “I’ll be right back.” Nick gently pushed her hands away and stumbled out of bed, disentangling himself from the sheets and almost tripping. He pulled on jeans as he checked the clock on the nightstand—10:36.
    Even in the dark, he knew every creak in the staircase by heart. Out of habit, he found himself tiptoeing, though his parents hadn’t slept in the old farmhouse for over five years.
    The knock was louder and more insistent now.
    “Hold on a minute,” he called out impatiently, yet relieved by the interruption.
    When he opened the door, Nick recognized Hank Ashford’s son, though he couldn’t recall his name. The boy was sixteen or seventeen, a linebacker on the football team and built like he could move two or three players at a time off the line of scrimmage. Yet, tonight, as he stood on Nick’s front porch, the kid slouched with his hands stashed in his pockets, eyes wild and face pale. He shivered despite the sweaty forehead.
    “Sheriff Morrelli, you have to come…on Old Church Road…please, you have to…”
    “Is someone hurt?” The crisp night air stung Nick’s bare skin. It felt good.
    “No, it’s not…he’s not hurt… Oh, God, Sheriff, it’s awful.” The boy looked back toward his car. It was only then that Nick saw the girl in the front seat. Even looking into the headlights, he could see she was crying.
    “What’s going on?” he demanded, sending the boy into a speechless, arm-crossing dance, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
    What stupid game had they been playing this time? Last week, the night before homecoming, a group of boys had played chicken with a couple of Jake Turner’s tractors. The loser had tipped over into a rain-filled ditch, pinning himself under the water. The boy was lucky he had escaped with only broken ribs and the flimsy punishment of sitting out two football games.
    “What the hell happened this time?” Nick found himself yelling at the shivering linebacker.
    “We found…down off Old Church Road…in the tall grass. Oh God, we found…we found a body.”
    “A body?” Nick wasn’t sure he believed him. “You mean a dead body?” Was the boy drunk? Was he stoned?
    The boy nodded, tears filling his eyes. He scraped the sleeve of his sweatshirt across his face and looked from Nick to his girlfriend, then back to Nick.
    “Hang on a minute.”
    Nick stepped back inside, letting the screen door slam behind him. They had probably imagined it. Or maybe it was an early Halloween prank. They’d been out partying. Both of them were probably stoned. He pulled on his boots, bypassing socks, then grabbed his shirt from the sofa, where it had been taken off him earlier in the evening. He was annoyed to find his fingers shaking as he buttoned the front.
    “Nick, what is it?”
    The voice from the top of the stairs startled him. He had forgotten about Angie. Roused from bed, her long, blond hair was ruffled and floated around her shoulders. The