Buku Fatally Haunted by Rachel Howzell Hall

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Fatally Haunted by Rachel Howzell Hall

Author:Rachel Howzell Hall

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Down & Out Books

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Fatally Haunted by Rachel Howzell Hall

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Palimpsest

Micheal Kelly

 

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Fatally Haunted by Rachel Howzell Hall

 

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Mystery, Thriller & Suspense

Fatally Haunted by Rachel Howzell Hall

Author:Rachel Howzell Hall , Date: June 11, 2019

,Views: 18

Author:Rachel Howzell Hall

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Down & Out Books
Back to TOC

Palimpsest

Micheal Kelly

Kate Elliott fished a thirty-dollar bottle of pinot grigio from her refrigerator. “I earned this.” It had taken hours to schlep inventory from her cargo van into the studio, and now, she filled a coffee mug with wine and walked through the house, turning off lights, locking doors, heading for the back bathroom.

LAPD helicopters thrummed overhead.

The neighbor’s chihuahua yapped.

Kate said, “Get in the house, Rupert. It’s coyote time.”

She started the hot water and dumped bath beads into the tub. Glamorous antique dealer? Really? A façade that concealed hours of packing, loading and unloading.

Kate cut the lights and closed the bathroom window against the Silver Lake soundtrack. She peeled sweaty clothes from sticky skin, then stepped into the hot water.

Droplets formed and dripped down forest green tiles. Lavender steam blanketed the sourness emanating from the pile of clothes she’d left on the floor.

“Bubble bath should be a business expense.” She draped a hot washcloth over her face and reviewed the weekend. Her receipts from three days’ antique sales totaled just over nineteen thousand dollars. Most of it was promised as partial payment for the estate of a former client.

Exhaustion and wine wove a cocoon of drowsiness.

Her eyelids drooped. The pause between breaths lengthened.

Outside her bathroom window, gravel crunched.

She startled, found herself in the bath. Fallen asleep. Again.

The bath water was cool, and—

There it was again…the crunch of gravel.

She froze, straining to hear the faintest sound, hoping to hear silence.

Gravel crunching. Closer now.

Her heart raced.

Slowly…cautiously…she lifted herself out of the tub. She yanked a ratty black bathrobe from the door hook. Pushed wet arms into the sleeves. Ran to her bedroom. She peeked past the curtains.

Someone in dark clothes—a man?—was kneeling beside her van.

Lightheaded, Kate dropped to the carpet, crawled to the bureau and grabbed her cell phone.

She tapped nine-one-one.

“You have reached the Los Angeles Police Department,” an automated voice announced. “An operator will be with you shortly.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Kate peeked out the window again. Her throat constricted.

He?—yes, it has to be a he—was working the lock on the van’s side door. It didn’t take long—the burglar slid the van’s door open and raked a penlight across the interior.

Empty.

He—definitely a he, wide shoulders, narrow hips—slid the door closed and crept toward the back of the house.

Where is Rupert? Why isn’t he barking? Did he hurt Rupert?

Phone to her ear, Kate crawled to the far side of her bed and reached for the baseball bat she kept there. One of those eighteen-inch souvenir bats from a Dodger game. She froze in dismay at her foolishness. Oh Lord, this is no weapon. She crouched in the corner, hoping to hear a human on the phone, dreading the sound of the man outside.

“Nine-one-one operator, what is your emergency?”

Mind racing, Kate whispered, “There’s a man outside my house. 1882 Silver Lake Boulevard. Please hurry.”

“A unit’s on the way. Is anyone with you?”

“I’m—”

Glass shattered.

Kate froze but managed to say, “Alone. I’m alone.”

Glass crunched against wood floor in the studio. “Oh God, he’s inside!”

“Get to a room where you can lock the door.

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