Already Gone (A Laura Frost FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1) by Blake Pierce (notion reading list .txt) 📗

“All right, satisfied now?” Nate asked.He was leaning back in his chair, looking at his notes with exasperation. Hethought she was being foolish. Laura could take that. She needed to know.

“Not yet,” Laura said. “I’ve almost gotsomething.”

“What are you hearing that I’m not?”Nate asked, dropping his pen back on his notebook and looking at her withfrustration. Even so, there was softness behind his gaze. He wanted to takecare of her, she realized. Wanted to protect her from listening to thisnightmare. But he didn’t know why she had to.

“I can hear him breathing,” Laura said,opting to at least go with the truth. Even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “Justlet me go again. I’m figuring something out. You… you can leave the room, ifyou have to.”

“Okay,” Nate sighed, shaking his head. “ButI’m not going anywhere. We’re partners. If you’re listening to this, I’ll stayas well. I’ll just… distract myself.” He looked down at his phone and startedtapping the screen. Laura couldn’t tell if he was reading messages, researchingsomething, or just playing a mobile game, but it didn’t matter. So long as hewas quiet, Laura could work with that.

She played the recording again. Shecould feel Nate looking at her every time she reset it to the beginning andpressed play again, but she ignored him. She closed her eyes, trying to blockout everything else. Rather than focusing on where she was—on going through hersenses one by one—she lost herself in the recording. She blocked out everythingelse. Now that she was used to the sounds that Caroline made, to the voice ofthe dispatcher, she could ignore them. She focused hard, trying to drownherself in the sound of his breathing.

Laura pressed play for the eighth timeand closed her eyes again. Slowly and carefully, hoping that Nate’s view wouldbe blocked by her body, she reached out and pressed her fingers to the speakeron one side of the computer monitor.

A stabbing pain shot through herforehead, and Laura tried to breathe through it. She kept still, listening hard—thereit was, that one loud intake of breath she’d first heard—

Laura was above her, looking down. Thewoman—she was definitely a woman, that much Laura could sense as much as see.But her face was obscured by black wisps like smoke, like ink flowing throughwater. Everything was dark and dim, like an old photograph shot in sepia,scratched and unclear. She fought to see through it, to get past…

The woman. There was something aroundher neck. Just for a moment Laura made it out, just for a moment she heard adesperate cry. A female voice cut off by a choking sound. Laura grasped formore, but everything was too dim. She couldn’t smell or taste or hear or feel athing. It was all dark ink around her, and the woman was getting further away.Smaller.

The woman was dying.

Laura’s eyes snapped open and she snatchedher fingers away from the speaker, pressing them against her forehead instead.The headache rolled through her like a wave, pushing every single thought outof her head until she got a grip on it. Then she deliberately unclenched herjaw, relaxed her clenched fist, breathed out.

She was so close. The fact that thevision had come at all meant that she was on the right track. It was closelylinked to her own future, her near future, and she would be close enough tostop it. If only she knew where the woman was—who she was—when it would happen.Who was standing behind her, wrapping something around her neck. Everysingle useful detail had been obscured, too far out of her reach.

Except for one. The fact that she wasright. The killer was going to strike again.

If she could just get more information,the vision would be more complete. But she didn’t have anything else to go on.The killer had left no evidence, no scrap of himself. She couldn’t findanything that pointed to his motive, any trace of his DNA, any sign he had leftbehind. She only had his breath—and that wasn’t enough.

She resisted the urge to slam thekeyboard against the desk in frustration. She had been so close. Why couldn’the have spoken on the recording? Why couldn’t he have left her at least a gruntto work with?

It was like the shadow she felt overNate. Too vague. Too dim to allow her to actually take any action. It wasn’tfair. Why did she have to put up with these headaches and all the inconvenienceof keeping the secret if it wasn’t going to actually help her to save alife?

“You finally given up?” Nate asked,making Laura exhale and turn to look at him. “You look like crap.”

“Thanks,” Laura said darkly, shaking herhead. “Listening to the last moments of a dead woman over and over again willdo that to you.”

“Did you at least get anything out ofit?” Nate asked. He set his notebook aside and leaned forward in his chair,resting his elbows on his knees. His large hands clasped loosely together belowhis chin as he studied her.

“He’s not out of breath,” Laura said. “Atleast, not too much. He strains a little to pull the cord, but I think he’sstrong. And he’s very calm—controlled.”

“Meaning he’s going to be a bitch tofind,” Nate said, scrubbing one of his hands back over his tightly coiled hair.“I hate the calm ones.”

“I’m sure their victims feel the same,”Laura said, with a light twist to the sides of her mouth. “I don’t know. It’snot much to go on. But I’m confident we’re looking for a man, at least.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Natesaid, reaching for his notebook again. “This was a recording from her landline,right?”

“Yeah,” Laura said, frowning. “That’swhy it was all picked up. He was using the cord from it to strangle her.” HadNate not realized that all along?

“Well, my point is, who uses a landlinethese days? Didn’t she have a cell?”

Laura thought back. “Yeah, I think Iread something about this in the notes from the first responders. Her cellphone was left on the bed. She couldn’t go back for it, if that’s where he camefrom.”

“Yeah, but the landline was out in thehall, right?” Nate sketched out a quick