One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

“He was a bit creepy, but he definitely never touched either of us or anything like that. Plus, I was always there when Alyssa was there. I’m pretty certain she was never alone with him.”

They still couldn’t completely rule him out, but Tara was becoming even more certain that he wasn’t who they were looking for.

“Do you know Reese Tanner?” Tara asked.

“I’ve heard of her because of the news and everything. I never met her, though. I live a couple towns over from Dewey Beach, so we didn’t go to the same school or anything.”

“Did you know she worked at Ocean Paddle for a bit too?”

The girl grew silent again. “No, I didn’t,” she responded. “I stopped working there about a month after Alyssa.”

It was certain Lucy would never have met Reese. Reese started working there about two years after Lucy stopped. And Lucy also wouldn’t have been working there while Alyssa went missing. Tara was hoping she could at least have been an alibi for the owner’s whereabouts the day Alyssa went missing.

“Were you aware of the owner doing anything illegal?” Tara finally asked.

“Uh, no, why?”

Tara didn’t go into details. She asked if she was ever aware of anything going on in the room Tara and Warren had discovered earlier, but the girl only confirmed that the door was usually locked.

Tara thanked her, and the phone call soon ended. She looked toward Warren.

“Let’s get one of the cops to check his alibi for the night Alyssa White went missing.” He looked at his watch, and Tara looked down at her phone as well. It was now around seven o’clock, and they now didn’t have a lead. Warren sighed. “I say we head back to the headquarters and brainstorm a bit.” Tara agreed; they would have more access to information in the databases of the J. Edgar Hoover Building.

But Warren’s suggestion only made it clearer that he had his doubts as well. And if both their intuitions were right, then whoever killed Alyssa and Reese was still out there.

Chapter Twelve

He sat in his car, parked on a dead end, staring out onto the road he faced. He would see her soon, walking past. She had a flat tire on her bicycle; he had made sure of it when he walked past it unattended and slashed the tire when no one was around. He had seen her earlier as he drove past, as she fumbled with the tire before realizing she would have to walk the rest of her way home. He hoped she would take this short cut. He knew where she lived, after all. He had been watching her for a few days now, and tonight was the perfect opportunity. There were no houses on the street. Barely anyone drove by at this time of night. Only the crash of the waves could be heard and the rustle of leaves at each passing gust of wind.

No one had seen him. No one would see her.

He waited, his heart pounding, pulsing adrenaline through his veins. Any moment, she would stroll by. Any moment, he would pull out onto the road she walked. He would get to speak with her for the first time. He would lure her. And then he’d have her, and then news would soon break, the exact story he wanted to create.

He stared at the clock, trying to contain himself, trying to make his heart steady. He had to focus on something, and then his eyes moved to the passenger seat. He had forgotten he had the local newspaper, with Reese on the front page. He quickly stuffed it into his glove box.

As he lifted his head again just over the dashboard, he heard movement, and his eyes darted in front of him. She was there, strolling by, with a look of defeat plastered on her face. Her flip-flops slapped the ground at each step. She pushed her bike ahead as the unruly back wheel flopped, trying to veer off-course.

He waited a few moments, letting her pass, just so she wouldn’t see him pull out. He would pretend he was just driving by and saw her, and then he would offer her a ride.

Once he knew she was a good distance ahead, he turned the key in the ignition. He turned his headlights on and then slowly pulled out.

As he approached, she noticed the headlights first. Without looking behind her, she stepped farther to the side of the road, pulling her bike closer to her. But then he slowed down, and her head turned toward the car. It was dusk, and her freckled face was spotlighted by the headlights. She squinted. Pieces of her short black hair hung around her face, too short to be held in her high ponytail.

He rolled down the window. “You all right?”

The girl stopped walking as she peered into the car. He could see a familiarity play on her face, but she wasn’t sure—it was too dark to see. “Yeah, just a flat.”

“You need a ride? It’s probably not the smartest to be out here alone right now.”

He could see her contemplating his gesture. What he mentioned had clearly crossed her mind as well. After all, a young girl had just been murdered. She peered into the car again, and then her face lit up. “Aren’t you—”

He nodded with a warm smile. He knew it was all he needed for her to trust him, and he was right.

“You think you can fit this?” she asked, looking down at her bike.

He reassured her he had room in his trunk, and after he pulled over, helped her take the wheels off, and placed the bike in his trunk, she soon sat beside him. She explained where she lived, and he began to head there, making her feel comfortable at first.

But then he made another turn.

“You’re going the wrong way,” she said.

But he only stared at the road in silence as he locked the doors.

Chapter Thirteen

Tara stared down at the case