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

paused, andwhen he began to speak again, his voice had a cadence that Laura recognized ashim settling into one of his Life Lesson Moments. “I’ve been sober fortwenty-one years, Laura. Since I was around your age. Do you know what I think,every time something bad happens?”

“No,” Laura said, prompting himimpatiently when he didn’t go on.

“I think, I could really do with adrink.” Garth paused to let that sink in. “Twenty-one years. But, see, here’sthe thing. You’ve got to build yourself a wall of reasons. Not just one thing,or two things. You need this giant wall of reasons that stands between you andthat bottle. So that if any of those reasons get taken away, the wall stillstands. Do you understand me?”

“I think so,” Laura said. Her pace hadstarted to slow down. She kicked a loose stone and made herself jump as itskittered away from her, out into the road.

“Right now, you’re trying to get soberfor your daughter, and that’s great. It’s amazing. Kids—they’re one of the bestreasons in the world to fight those inner demons.” Garth paused again. Laurarankled at these long pauses of his. If she didn’t appreciate his guidance somuch, she would be telling him to hurry the hell up. “But, Laura, one reasonwon’t keep you sober. It won’t. It can crumble so easily. You mess up byshowing up late to a court appointment, you realize you’ve let your little girldown, and there you are—you might as well have a drink and really finish thejob off. You know? I know you’ve been there.”

Laura sighed, pinching the bridge of hernose. He was right. She had.

“So, you’ve got to work on this. Come tomeetings when you’re home. Build yourself up a wall of reasons. And every timeyou think about having a drink, instead of going out for one, start building upthat wall. Think about all of the reasons you can’t have a drink right now.”

Laura nodded, even though Garth couldn’tsee her. “Okay,” she said, at length, realizing that he was done and not justleaving one of his long pauses.

“All right.” Garth took a breath. “Now,you go ahead and work on that. You call me again if it’s not working. And,Laura? For goodness’ sake, go to your motel or wherever it is you’re staying.It must be freezing out there.”

Laura half-laughed. “Yeah, it is,” shesaid, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. She turned her steps back in thedirection she’d come, trying to remember the way back. “All right. Thanks,Garth.”

She ended the call, slipping the phoneback into her pocket as she took a deep breath and thought about the walk shehad ahead of her. A pang of homesickness hit her: being at home in her own bedwould be fabulous right about now. And hearing her daughter’s voice. Maybetomorrow she could try Marcus again, see if he would let her talk to Lacey.Even for a moment. Even to hear her voice in the background of the call.

She must have pressed a button on theside of her cell phone as she put it away, because it buzzed in her hand.

But then it buzzed a second time—and athird.

Laura grabbed it back out of her pocket,realizing that it was ringing. She checked the caller ID and began to walk backto the motel faster even as she answered. “Nate?”

“Why aren’t you in your motel room?” Itwas him, all right, and he sounded irritated. Laura didn’t doubt that he hadbeen woken up from what would have been a pretty short nap. “It doesn’t matter.Get back here now. We’ve got another body.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Laura leaned her head, looking out ofthe car window at the building as they pulled up outside it. There was no needto ask which building they were looking for. The sheriff’s cars and thedeputies milling around gave it away, as did the ambulance.

“This is different,” she said, as Nateput the car into park. “A house, not an apartment.”

“Let’s go see what else he’s changed,”Nate said grimly, getting out and walking around to her side as they crossedthe sidewalk together. “Third time proves the rules, after all.”

Laura nodded, her head heavy. Nate wasright; this was an opportunity to see which elements were truly tells of theirkiller’s MO, and which were coincidence. But Laura already knew what they weregoing to see when they went in there—or at least who.

She couldn’t recognize the building fromthe outside. It looked like any normal family home: a short driveway withenough room for one car, three windows on the front side, one solid-lookingdoor. She didn’t know the bearded man who was standing to the left of theentrance with his arms folded across his chest, a look of faded and strainedgrief frozen on his face. But she knew that she was going to recognize thevictim.

Nate flashed a badge and then followedone of the sheriff’s men into the house, down a hall to the kitchen. This waswhere the majority of the activity was taking place: a crime scene photographerwas flashing images of the body, and white-suited forensics professionals weretaking samples from the rest of the room before starting in on the victimherself.

Laura felt no joy at the fact that thewoman lying on the floor next to her fridge was the same one from her vision. Thatfeeling of déjà vu lingered, though this time she wasn’t concerned by it: she’dseen this vision twice, after all. This was her third visit to the home. Ofcourse she would feel like she’d seen it all before.

Perhaps she should at least have feltglad. It meant that she was getting closer to the killer: the vision had beenmuch more clear, given her so much more detail. And it had been accurate.

But Laura would have given away all ofthat progress in a heartbeat if it meant that this woman didn’t have to die.

“There you are,” Sheriff Lonsdale said,turning his gray eyes on them as they stepped inside the room. Nate took upmost of the doorway until he moved to one side, allowing Laura to stand by the sheriffand look down on the grisly scene. The woman’s neck was marked by ugly redmarks where the