Nowhere To Run Read Free Page B

athlete.
    “How long ago was that taken?” he asked, turning back to the couple.
    “Just under a year ago,” Mrs. Logan replied. “Not long after the engagement; Tommy wanted it taken, thought we should capture the moment or some such nonsense.”
    As the constables stepped outside, Driscoll turned back in time to see Mr. Logan drop his head into his hands before the door closed decisively behind them.
    *
    Sarah looked around the room for Tommy but the cigarette smoke and smell of incense made the air seem thick, as though she was surrounded by a heavy fog. She felt sick to her stomach but didn’t want to stand up to look for a bathroom because she was pretty sure her legs would give out on her.
    The flat beer had gone down well for a while; she’d had beer, wine, even a few vodka oranges before. But never enough to achieve this floating sensation, the realization that pretty well everything was funny, and nothing that important. Except of course now she couldn’t get up. I wonder where Tommy is, she asked herself again, leaning her head back to watch the miniscule specks of light dance in front of her eyes.
    Most of the party goers were sticking close to the keg in the kitchen, but Sarah had somehow ended up stuck to a couch in a room littered with strangers who looked worse off than herself. The boy beside her had passed out face down, nose pressed between stained cushions. Sarah shuddered and shifted her legs so her skirt covered more of her thighs.
    She was relieved to see a hand reach out to her, to help lever her out of her seat. It’s ok that it wasn’t Tommy’s eyes looking down at her, pale blue irises flecked with darker chips watching her instead of the untroubled blue of Tommy’s. At least they would help her get out of the room that had started to feel claustrophobic.
    When the party was over they walked back into town, morning’s first light already starting to filter through the dense screen of the night sky. She knew she had done something wrong and she would probably regret it in when the full light of day came. But right now when they had the long empty road stretched out in front of them and the sky’s fading stars reflecting the flash of fireflies that disappeared from sight before they were sure they had seen them, she couldn’t make herself care. The world was wide open and anything could happen.

 
    Chapter 4
     
    “Sure, I’d see her more mornings than not. She’d be following the shoreline to catch the Bruce Trail up the Bluffs.” Mr. Broadbent gestured expansively to the lake view backing his home. “I like to paint overlooking the water; gives me inspiration,” he told the Sergeant as he took hold of Alex’s arm to steer him away from the window to stand in front of a series of oil paint canvases affixed to the wall.
    The pictures were variations on the view outside the window, all done in painstakingly small strokes that must have taken the artist months a piece to complete. Could be paint by number as far as he was concerned, but Alex would be the first to admit art wasn’t his forte.
    “I tend to focus on the light,” Mr. Broadbent, or Don, as Alex had been urged to call him, buried his bearded chin in his chest and examined one of the paintings over the top of his glasses. “This one here is a summer piece. You can tell from the light spreading across the horizon, can get the feel of the sun illuminating the water. Brings out the iridescence of the rocks, seems to light the lake up from below if you catch it right.”
    Alex uttered a vague grunt of appreciation. “What time of day would she usually run by?” he attempted to guide the conversation back to the investigation.
    “Not long past seven in the morning. I’m an early riser, so I’m usually on my second cup of coffee by then, been at the painting an hour or so.” Mr. Broadbent scratched his grey beard thoughtfully. “She’s a nice runner, cuts a fine figure.”
    He squinted more closely at his artwork as