Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📗

“Come here!” he snarled, missing, his hands groping towardher again.

She didn’t wait to talk, and instead spun on her heel,sprinting back in the direction of the house.

But the man tackled her from behind, grabbing at her ankle,and they both collapsed with dull thuds to the dewy ground. She screamed again,her throat hoarse, fear flooding her. Her chest pounded a million miles anhour. Who was this? What did he want?

She tried to bite, to kick. She lashed out, her heelcatching him on the bridge of his nose.

He yelped and released her ankle. Elke scrambled to herfeet, dodging the other direction this time, and he missed another lunge. Nowshe was racing toward the barn, away from the house. A deadly mistake, but onethat was hard to track amidst the chaos of the moment.

“Remember me?” he screamed out, rising from the mud.

She glanced back, but then looked forward again, breathingheavily as she sprinted around the barn, desperately looking for a discardedplank of wood, a rock, a rake. Anything to use as a weapon.

“You thought I was crazy,” he screamed. “Didn’t you, Mother?”

Mother? What was he talking about? Her heart raced and herthroat prickled with terror.

“I’ve missed you too,” he yelled.

She reached the barn, rounding it, and heard the sound ofthumping footsteps. She looked frantically around. There, a stack of barrels.Could it serve as a hiding place?

She sprinted toward the trees, but heard more thumpingfootsteps. Had he doubled back? Was he trying to round the other way. She’d beenstupid. She should’ve headed toward the house. Nothing for it now, though.

Hastily, she raced toward the barrels, her shoulderscraping on rough wood as she slid behind the wooden containers, crouched lownear the earth, smelling mud and the damp mold at the base of the barn. Shefroze, on her haunches, breathing loudly.

The thumping footsteps followed, and she spotted a flash ofmovement between the gaps in the barrels toward the trees. She sat still,gasping far too loudly in her own ears, but there was nothing to do about thatnow.

She waited, her head resting against the wooden grain ofthe barrel.

And then, silence.

Her fear circled in spinning pulses, racing with the wildcadence of her thumping heart.

Had he gone the other way? She couldn’t see any better,lodged behind the old barrels as she was. She couldn’t stay here, though. Sheneeded to get back to the house. Back to her family. Her phone had been left onthe kitchen table.

Slowly, still breathing in shallow gasps, she began to incharound the barrel, toward the edge of the barn.

A shadow fell over her.

A single strand of black beads fell past the edge of one ofthe barrels, dangling down toward her nose, with an ebony cross at the veryedge.

Two dull, gray eyes peered over the barrels now.

She screamed, and the barrel was thrown aside with a dull thunk.

She tried to scramble back, but this time he moved,anticipating the motion, and grabbed her, fingers tight around her throat,holding her still. He wrapped the black beads around her neck, and she gasped,spluttering, trying to kick.

And then he squeezed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Agent Paige paused near the hotel’ssmall coffee maker on the second-floor landing. She poured herself a paper cup—black,no sugar. She paused, staring at the drink, reaching up and brushing a strandof hair behind her ear.

Adele had come back late theprevious night. Paige had heard her enter the room next door sometime afterthree AM. Now, seven in the morning, Paige was going to meet the younger woman.

She glanced down at her phone forthe second time, frowning at the text exchange:

Where are you? Paige hadtexted after visiting Adele’s room and receiving no answer.

Gym, Adele had replied. Secondfloor.

Paige just shook her head,lowering the phone again. She had to hand it to Agent Sharp—the woman was a hardworker, no doubt. Impetuous, intrusive, and obnoxious, but still a hard worker.She’d stayed up until three on the case, and had woken up before Paige to go tothe gym. A sustainable schedule? Absolutely not.

But still, credit had to be given,even if grudgingly. Perhaps Paige was being a bit hard on the younger agent.

She sighed to herself and reachedfor a second cup. For a moment, her fingers hovered over the paper containerand then she grabbed the thing and poured a second cup of coffee, also black.If Adele wanted sugar, she’d have to work twice as hard. The coffee would haveto be enough.

Grabbing both paper cups, Paigeturned on her heel, stalking down the second floor’s hall along a row of glasswindows which revealed an old workout room. She passed a dance studio in thesmall London hotel, and then came to a halt outside an indoor track.

Adele was the only one inside,jogging around the red circle, sweat slicking her body, her eyes fixed ahead asshe went around and around. No music, no earbuds, just a determined expressionand a consistent pace. Paige watched, frowning as Adele circled the track, herlegs stretching beneath her, the pace only picking up, it seemed. For a moment,it didn’t even look like exercise. The intense stare, the wide-eyed look offocus—it almost felt like Adele was running away from some invisible ghost.Paige felt a soft shiver down her spine.

She pressed her shoulder againstthe glass, easing open the door and stepping into the stale gym. “Coffee!” shecalled.

Adele looked over, blinkingsuddenly and shifting the strange atmosphere over her workout. She paused nextto a floor-to-ceiling window, panting briefly, and bent over for a second,checking her watch and then resting her hands on her knees and breathing at thefloor, before straightening.

For a moment, she just looked atthe second cup of coffee in Paige’s hand as if the woman had sprouted a thirdarm. She stood on the opposite side of the room.

“Almost done,” Adele called.

“We need to get going,” Paige returned.

“I found a clue.”

Paige blinked, then took a slowsip from one of the containers, long enough to process her reaction and thenlowered it again. “Oh?” she said simply.

Adele bobbed her head, reaching upand wiping sweat from her forehead. “Both victims owned summer homes inSouthern France.”

Paige blinked, but didn’t sayanything.

“In the same region,” Adele said,more insistently.

Paige shrugged slowly. “This isEurope. A