Left to Lapse (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Seven) by Blake Pierce (book club suggestions txt) 📗

the glowing device, bleeding from his arm, feeling droplets specklethe floorboards. He winced, glaring up. For a moment, he faked another cough,if only to have an excuse to bunch up, preparing to lunge in one last desperateattempt for that phone.

Butthe masked man seemed to sense Robert’s intent and skipped back, again far tooquickly, like a dancer.

Robert’sfingers swiped empty air and he landed face first, chin jamming against therough floor. He felt one of his old books pressed beneath his ribs. He couldfeel blood swelling down his arm now.

Thekiller was murmuring to himself, scrolling through Robert’s phone, which wasleft unlocked during the night in case of a medical emergency. Now, though, itallowed the killer to scroll through his texts. The bastard paused at once,going stiff.

“Adele,”he said, uttering the word breathlessly like a lover at the sight of his bride.He looked up now, his eyes—the one dull, the one vibrant—staring out from themetallic mask. “She is coming tomorrow?”

“Idon’t know who Adele is,” Robert spat. “Wrong number.”

Theintruder laughed, a hearty, authentic sound. He shook his head and chuckled,holding the phone a moment and then pressing it into his pocket. “It will benice to talk to Adele,” said the killer. “In a way she’ll receive it. It isn’tfun to go without seeing one’s friends for so long.”

Robertsnarled now, trying to rise, but finding his injured arm insufficient to bearhis weight. “You leave her alone! Hear me? Leave her out of this, you sicktwist!”

Theintruder paused, contemplating these words. Then his expression behind the maskseemed to darken, as if a light dimmed in his eyes. “I don’t think I will,thank you,” he said, quietly. “Adele and I have unfinished business. And I’mafraid you’re standing in the way. Don’t worry, Mr. Henry, we only have tonighttogether. I wish it were a week, maybe two. But I’ll have to work with the timewe have.”

Andthen the intruder stepped forward, fast—far too fast, his knife flashing down,a foot planting firmly in Robert’s weakened chest and shoving him back againstthe floorboards in his own home.

Allthat remained was a glimmer of regret, sheer fear, and a white-hot anger withnowhere left to go.

Then…all of these faded too, replaced by a sudden cold.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Adeleslumped more than strolled out of the sliding glass doors of the airport, JohnRenee marching at her side. She glanced at her phone. Two a.m. Night had fallencomplete and beckoned starlight in coaxing breaths from the ebony horizon.

Adelepaused on the sidewalk outside the airport, listening to the quiet buzz ofairplanes in the background. The sparse terminal itself had emptied ratherquickly, leaving Adele and John both standing by the curb, witnessed only by a distanttraffic warden leaning against an old security vehicle and chatting with aguard through the window.

Johnsighed, glancing at his phone and muttering, “Ride is going to be late,” hemurmured. Then, after a moment, he added, “Sorry.”

Adeleglanced up at Renee where he stood illuminated by the safety lights above thesign for the terminal. His scars traced the underside of his chin and his eyesfixed on the asphalt ahead of them, flicking expectantly toward the roundaboutwhere the passenger vehicles would come to pick up their fares.

“It’sall right,” she murmured quietly, closing her eyes for a moment and resistingthe urge to rest against John. She was so tired. The airplane ride hadproceeded in the same quiet that had existed between them for the last fewdays.

Aquiet she’d grown to hate, but one she didn’t quite know how to shatter.

Shelooked up again, and the tall Frenchman was staring at her. She blinked, lookedaway, glanced back, and now John was looking off at the road again, as if embarrassedshe’d caught him watching.

“Whatis it?” she asked, offering the question like a gift, but also wincing as iffearful he might slap it away.

John,though, just sighed and regarded her for a moment with a soft, sad glimmer tohis gaze. “I was just thinking,” he said, standing in the quiet.

“Thinkingabout what?”

“Nothing,”he murmured. “Nothing important.”

Adelenodded, feeling a flutter of disappointment. Again, in the distance she heardthe churn of an airplane engine, listening as it carried the aircraft away andover the airport.

Adelesighed softly to herself, her mind wandering away in the cool darkness of theisolated terminal. “John,” she ventured softly, her eyes flitting up to himonce again,

“What?” John said, his tonesimilarly hesitant, it seemed. She tried to remember if he’d had more than onedrink on the plane, but couldn’t recollect.

She met his gaze, her own heartstill. He looked back, his expression soft for the first time, it seemed, inweeks.

“John,” she murmured.

“Adele?”

She swallowed, then said, “You…you can be a right bastard sometimes, you know that?”

John blinked, then frowned. Heturned now, facing her, feet set at shoulder width. His eyes flashed for amoment and he sniffed. “What the hell do you mean?” he demanded.

Adele shrugged now, looking awayand staring out across the abandoned terminal. She looked to her phone. It was2:05 now. Too late to have this conversation. Too late for much. Then again,she’d never been able to muster up the courage to confront him during the day,while on the job. If not now, then when?

“You are,” she insisted. “But… notin a bad way. Not really. I sometimes think I have you figured out, but thenyou go and do something that makes me question it.”

“Ah, the trait of every bastardthen.”

“I’m not joking. You’reimpossible. But useful. You act like I don’t exist anymore. And yet you stillhave my back when I need you. You’re a strange one, John Renee.” Adele wasn’tsure where this sudden spurt of honesty was coming from, but she also didn’twant to lose the current of it, so she pressed into the words, her browfurrowing as she did.

“I… I think I’m sorry,” she said. “Forhow I treated you after… well…”

“After I let your mother’s killerget away?”

“Yes.” Adele bit her lip. “But yousaved a life. That’s all we can do sometimes. You saved a life. I’m sorry fortreating you like… well…”

“Like a bastard.”

“I guess so.”

John stood with his eyes fixed onher, solemn and sincere. “I… I thought you were tired of me,” he murmured,quietly. Now he turned, facing the road again,