Dead Silence (Stillwater Trilogy #1)(28)
Author: Brenda Novak

She didn’t know. It could have. She’d been out of her mind that night; they’d all been out of their minds.

“Grace!” Madeline cried, already at the door.

Grace squeezed her forehead with one hand. Think! Oh, God. What do I do?

There was no time to do anything. The shouting and footsteps were growing louder. She could even recognize a few of the voices.

Slamming the drawer, she turned to follow her stepsister. But just as she reached Madeline, she realized she couldn’t leave the Bible behind. It could destroy her whole family.

“We have to split up,” she said. “You go that way, and I’ll—” she searched frantically for another option “—I’ll sneak out the bathroom window.”

“But what if—”

“Go,” she said and gave her stepsister a little shove.

Madeline touched her arm to let Grace know she’d heard and ducked outside.

Run, Grace thought, as though they could communicate telepathically. Run. But she couldn’t move very fast herself. She felt her way through the dark, back to the filing cabinet, where she retrieved the Bible and slipped it into the waistband of her shorts.

The men were at the door. She had to reach the bathroom. Unless she wanted to try hiding under the desk, it was her only chance of escape.

Her hands instinctively groped for her flashlight. She hated the dark. But she didn’t know where she’d put the damn thing after shutting it off.

Then she heard someone yell, “I see him! Over there!” and the footsteps raced off in another direction.

Madeline! Grace wasn’t sure whether or not her stepsister would be able to get away. But that suddenly became a secondary concern. She had to take the reverend’s Bible and destroy it while she had the chance.

Finally she found the bathroom and eyed the small window above the toilet. She could see a slice of moon gleaming far above and longed to climb out, as she’d told Madeline she would. That window faced away from the dog and the noise. But it was too high. Even if she could get through, she was afraid she’d fall to the ground and break her neck.

Going out the front was her only option, although she was afraid the police were on their way and might spot her as they drove up.

Skirting the reception desk, she peered through the door, which stood slightly ajar from Madeline’s rapid departure.

She could hear no sirens. Just the melee going on down the alley, and the dog next door, barking wildly.

She had at most a few seconds in which to disappear before everyone came back to see what had been damaged or stolen….

The leather cover of the Bible felt like a hot brand on the skin of her back—the reverend’s brand. She wanted to toss it away and pretend she’d never seen it. But she couldn’t. She had to burn it so no one would ever find it again.

Begging for a miracle, she darted outside and hurried around the building.

She managed to clear the yard with little sound. When she entered the alley, she began to feel more hopeful.

She was out. But what now?

She needed to climb Lorna Martin’s fence. If she could cut through the neighborhood while everyone’s attention was elsewhere, she still had a chance of escape.

Kennedy couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d been leaning against the back of his SUV, waiting to see if the others caught the burglar who’d broken in next door, when a second guy emerged from the shadows of the auto shop. Dressed all in black, the dark figure hurried across the alley and scaled Lorna Martin’s fence.

It was a kid, just as he’d suspected. Had to be. The person’s frame wasn’t big enough to be a man. And no man he knew climbed a fence like that….

Kennedy glanced around as though expecting someone else to go after him. But the guys who’d left the pool hall were already much farther down the alley. There was nothing to do but go after the little thief himself.

“Hey, hold on there!” he called.

The boy ran even faster, but now that he’d committed himself, Kennedy was dedicated to catching him. He jumped the fence, too, and nearly ran into Lorna Martin’s husband, who came barreling out of the house wearing a bathrobe.

“Kennedy?” Les said, stopping abruptly. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

Kennedy swerved around him. “Some young kid just came through here,” he called back as he ran. “Did you see him?”

“No, but judging from all the ruckus, he’s down there.” Les pointed in the direction of the others.

“There’s two of ’em,” Kennedy said and continued to sprint to the front.

Les yelled something after him, but Kennedy didn’t stop. He wasn’t about to let some stupid kid get away with breaking into one of Stillwater’s businesses. Whoever this was, he needed to be taught a lesson before he did anything worse.

When he reached the street, Kennedy saw a small, dark shape dart around the corner four houses down and knew the culprit was probably heading for the woods. If Kennedy didn’t catch up to him soon, he might never find him. Not alone. And not in the dark.

He pounded along the sidewalk, but when he got to the corner, he could no longer see any movement. The streetlights illuminated nothing more than a row of dark houses and shiny black asphalt.

He stopped, taking a deep breath as it began to rain. Where had the boy gone? They’d both be soaked in a matter of minutes, which didn’t sound particularly appealing.

Not that Kennedy was ready to give up. Gazing at the railroad tracks that passed through the meadowlike land, he realized the boy must’ve cut over already. If not, Kennedy would’ve seen him.

Obviously, the troublemaker didn’t know this area very well. How was he planning to cross the creek? Maybe he could hide in the woods, but unless he planned to swim in the dark, he wouldn’t get very far. The creak formed an arc that hemmed him in on three sides.

Jogging through the meadow, Kennedy cleared the railroad tracks and entered the woods. But he couldn’t see much. The dense foliage blocked out most of the moonlight. He knew the boy could be headed in any direction. Or maybe he wasn’t moving at all. Maybe Kennedy was wrong. Maybe he knew the area as well as Kennedy did and was simply lying low, hoping Kennedy would eventually give up.

Kennedy stood still, listening. An owl hooted, but he heard nothing more.

Walking deeper into the trees, he went toward the creek, his movements as stealthy as possible, pausing often to listen. Two could play the waiting game. But he spent at least ten minutes in the woods and heard nothing, saw nothing move.