Mad River Road Read Free

bedroom, saw the sliver of moon winking at him from between the slats of the white California shutters. Outside, the wind was painting the night with a surreal brush, combining disparate colors and surfaces; inside all was still and serene. He wondered for an instant whether he should leave without disturbing her. Probably he could find what he was looking for without having to wake her. Most likely the information he sought was secreted in one of the side drawers of the antique oak desk that was squeezed into the corner between the window and the dresser. Or maybe it was stored safely inside her laptop computer. Either way, he knew everything he wanted was within easy grasp. All he had to do was reach out and take it, then disappear into the night without anyone being the wiser.
    But what fun would there be in that?
    He slipped his right hand inside the pocket of his jeans, felt the hardness of the knife’s handle against his fingers. For now the blade was tucked safely inside its wood casing. He’d release it when the time was right. But first, there was much to do. Might as well get this show on the road, he decided, lowering himself gingerly to the bed, his hip grazing hers as the mattress slumped to accommodate him. Instinctively, her body rotated slightly to the left, her head lolling toward him. “Hey, Gracie,” he cooed, his voice as soft as fur. “Time to wake up, Gracie-girl.”
    A low groan escaped her throat, but she didn’t move.
    “Gracie,” he said again, louder this time.
    “Mmn,” she mumbled, her eyes remaining stubbornly closed.
    She knows I’m here, he thought. She’s just playing with me. “Gracie,” he barked.
    Her eyes shot open.
    And then everything seemed to happen at once. She was awake and screaming as she struggled to sit up, the horrible catlike wail assaulting his ears, then racing wildly around the room. Instinctively, his hand reached out to silence her, his fingers wrapping tightly around her neck, her screams turning to whimpers beneath the growing pressure on her larynx. She gasped for air as he lifted her effortlessly with one arm and pinned her to the wall behind the bed.
    “Shut up,” he ordered as her toes struggled to maintain contact with the bed, her hands scratching at his gloves in a fruitless effort to free herself from his stubborn grasp. “Are you going to shut up?”
    Her eyes widened.
    “What was that?”
    He felt her trying to croak out a response, but all she could manage was a ruptured cry.
    “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, slowly releasing his grip, and watching her slide down the wall and back onto her pillow. He chuckled as she collapsed in a crumpled heap, struggling to gulp air back into her lungs. The top of her pajamas had ridden halfway up her back, and he could make out the individual vertebrae of her spine. It would be so easy to just snap that spine in two, he thought, savoring the image as he reached over to grab a handful of her hair, then yanking her head around so that she had no choice but to look at him. “Hello, Gracie,” he said, watching for the disdainful twitch of her nose. “What’s the matter? Did I wake you in the middle of a good dream?”
    She said nothing, simply stared at him through eyes clouded with fear and disbelief.
    “Surprised to see me, are you?”
    Her eyes darted toward the bedroom door.
    “I think I’d get that thought right out of my head,” he said calmly. “Unless, of course, you want to make me really angry.” He paused. “You remember what I’m like when I’m really angry. Don’t you, Gracie?”
    She lowered her eyes.
    “Look at me.” Again he tugged at her hair, so that her head was stretched back against the top of her spine and her Adam’s apple pushed against her throat like a fist.
    “What do you want?” Her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper.
    His response was to pull even harder on her hair. “Did I say you could speak? Did I?”
    She tried shaking her head, but his grip on her