Sleeping Beauty Read Free Page B

house, she hunched forward as if chilled to the bone. Her eyes, bloodshot from crying, stared blankly at the tabletop. She was so numb that she didn’t feel the bruises and cuts that a medic had treated a short time before. Every once in a while she would raise a mug of hot tea to her lips. Sipping the tea took every ounce of strength she could muster.
    Ashley’s flight had taken a random route through the neighborhood and ended in the bushes in the McCluskeys’ backyard. The cold and rain had eventually driven her to pound on her neighbor’s back door. While she was hiding, Ashley tried to imagine ways in which she could have averted the horrors that had befallen her father and her best friend. In every scenario the outcome was the same: if she stayed behind she ended up dead. Yet that didn’t stop her from feeling guilty for running away.
    A policewoman sat beside Ashley. There were other officers in the McCluskey home. Logic told Ashley that the man who had murdered her father and her best friend was long gone. She also knew that she would fear his return every minute of every day as long as he was at large.
    The police had set up barricades on either side of the Spencer home to keep away the neighbors and the reporters who stood behind them, staring at the officers moving through Ashley’s yard and in and out of her house. Every once in a while, the short, intermittent bark of a siren would signal the arrival of another police vehicle that was working its way through the crowd. Ashley paid no attention to anything that was going on outside. She had too much going on inside her head.
    The policewoman stood up. Ashley caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and jerked back violently. She was holding the mug, and tea splashed on the tablecloth. A man was standing next to her. She had been so self-absorbed that she hadn’t noticed him enter the kitchen.
    â€œIt’s okay, Miss Spencer. I’m a detective,” he said, holding out his identification. The detective’s voice was calm, and he had a pleasant face. He was dressed in a brown tweed jacket, gray slacks, and a striped tie. Ashley had only seen detectives on TV, and he did not fit the stereotype. He wasn’t handsome or rugged-looking. He just seemed ordinary, like her teachers or her friends’ parents.
    â€œMay I sit?”
    Ashley nodded, and the detective took the chair the policewoman had vacated.
    â€œMy name is Larry Birch. I’m with Homicide and I’m going to head the investigation into…into what happened at your house.”
    Ashley was touched by the detective’s consideration.
    â€œWe’ve called your mother and she’s on her way home. She’ll probably be here by dawn.”
    A wave of sadness overwhelmed Ashley as she pictured the life her mother was about to lead. Her parents were still in love. Sometimes they were like teenagers, displaying a closeness around her friends that often embarrassed Ashley. What would Terri do now?
    Birch saw Ashley’s chest heave as she fought to control her tears.Gently he placed his hand on her shoulder, then went to the sink and returned with a glass of water. She was grateful for the kindness.
    â€œI’d like to talk about what happened tonight,” Birch said after a moment. “I know that’s going to be rough for you. If you don’t want to discuss it, I’ll understand. But the more I know, the faster we’ll be able to arrest the person who did this. The longer I have to wait for information, the better the chance that this man will get away.”
    Ashley felt sick. So far, no one had asked her to discuss her ordeal in detail. She did not want to remember her father covered in blood or Tanya’s screams. She wanted to forget the sound of the intruder’s shuddering orgasm and the way he’d eyed her from the doorway of her room. But she owed it to Tanya and her father to help the police. And she