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

Laura gasped, her eyes flying open asshe surfaced from the dream. No, a memory, she thought. That had all reallyhappened, when she was just a little girl. No bigger than Amy was now, really.Or Lacey.

She sighed to herself, sitting up andtrying to chase those old ghosts out of her head. After the first time she madepredictions that had come true, therapy had become a habit. That was, until shelearned to never talk about her visions, to never tell people what she saw. Thetherapist had declared that there was nothing wrong with her, and deep inside,Laura had known there was.

She shook her head at her own self, atthese memories surfacing just now when she could do without them. She needed toconcentrate, not get stuck in the past.

She stretched her arms above her head,feeling the cricks in her muscles from the tiny sofa she’d managed to find inan abandoned office. It was still dark out, which was lucky. No one had come into wake her up—or to find an FBI agent unexpectedly curled up on their sofa,which might have been an unpleasant surprise for both of them.

Why had that memory come up now? It hadbeen five or six years after that when Laura first felt the shadow of deatharound her father. When she first had a vision of his death, of his bodypropped up and shrinking in a hospital bed, bald and prickled with wires andtubes all over. She’d been too afraid to say something then. The therapy wasstill too recent a memory. She hadn’t wanted to cause trouble again, so she’dkept what she saw to herself.

When he’d been diagnosed at long last,Laura had a vivid memory of the moment the specialist had delivered the newsthat it wasn’t going to be possible for him to make it out alive. He’d said itin a soft and gentle way, aware of the fact that he was talking to a wife and ateenage daughter. But Laura had never been able to forget the way he haddelivered it: the exact words he had said.

“If we had caught this sooner, we mighthave been able to do something—but I’m afraid it’s too late.”

It had been too late because she’d keptit to herself. Stayed silent. She had watched him die a slow and painful death,losing his dignity, every single element of life that might give him pleasure.Swapping it all for just a few more months of chemo-ridden life, with hisfamily forced to sit at his bedside and watch. And now it was happening toNate, and she still couldn’t say a word. If she did, she risked losing her job,being committed, losing the only people she cared about. Being pushed evenfurther back from the possibility of getting visitation rights with Lacey.

How many times in her life had Laurabeen forced to stay silent and watch things unfold, even when she already knewhow they would go? How many times had she said nothing?

Yes, there were times she had steppedin. So many times she’d managed to find a way to make an impact. But there wereso many other times, too, when she had tried yet failed to change fate.

Too many failures on both sides. Toomany silences. And now it was happening all over again. Nate. Amy. The killer.

What would she do, Laura wondered, ifanything ever happened to Lacey—because she was no longer close enough to herdaughter to see it and stop it?

Laura grabbed her phone and dialedMarcus’s number, needing to hear her daughter. Needing it, witheverything she was. Every fiber, every bone. The line rang and rang, untilfinally Marcus’s voice kicked in, telling her to leave a message.

Voicemail. Laura ended the call, takinga breath. Of course he wouldn’t be awake yet. That would be too much to expect.

She only had to wait a moment, lingeringin the disappointment, before the phone buzzed. A wild flare of hope spoiled tosickness as she read the text Marcus had sent her.

What the hell, Laura. It’s five in themorning. Leave us alone.

Laura bit her lip hard. She’d probablymade things worse now. Why was she only ever capable of making mistakes when itcame to the people she loved?

She wiped her hands over her face,rubbing her eyes and trying to force herself out of this funk she was in. Thedreams and the text had done nothing for her mood, even if she did feelphysically a little better thanks to the sleep. She had to get up, get moving,get back to the case.

But first, there was someone else whosefate she needed to check up on.

She dialed another number, seeing dawnjust beginning to arrive through the windows and knowing that it was early.Maybe too early. But it was always worth a try.

“Hello, Fallow residence.” It only tookLaura a moment to place the voice: it was Amy’s mother. So she was awake atthis time of day, after all.

“Hello, Mrs. Fallow,” Laura said, tryingto keep her voice smoothly respectful. “I hope it’s not too early to call. Thisis FBI Agent Laura Frost. We met when your daughter was in the hospital.”

“Oh—yes,” Mrs. Fallow said, her voiceuncertain. “You were the one who went in and spoke with Amy directly?”

“That’s right,” Laura said. “I’m justdoing a quick follow-up to check on you all. How are things? How is Amy coping?”

“Um,” Mrs. Fallow said. She sounded asthough she was distracted, almost as if she couldn’t focus on the question. “She’s—Imean, she’s quite fine—yes, I…”

Her voice trailed off, and Laura heardsomething in the background. She strained to hear, but there was no need; thenoise was getting louder, presumably closer to the phone. She recognized whatit was. It was a man’s voice, asking who she was talking to.

“Sorry, it’s not a good time,” Mrs.Fallow said, and immediately ended the call.

Laura remained still for a long momentafter the call had ended, hearing the flat tone beeping in her ear. A man. Ithad to be him. Governor Fallow.

His wife was obviously already petrifiedof him. There was no telling how long it might be before he would start to layhis hands on little Amy.

Laura bit her