Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📗

officer withthe handlebar mustache. “See anyone come by?” she demanded. “Has anyone enteredthe building?”

“No,” the man said. “Not since wearrived.” He glanced at her ID again and seemed to relax a bit.

Adelecould feel her heartbeat pounding, and her pulse raced. “Out of my way,” shesnapped. “Now!”

The officer who had radioed in gave his partner a quicknod. Both of them stepped aside, but the first one said, “No one’s gone inside.Everything’s all right.”

“I’d like to see for myself,” she muttered, shoulderingpast them and hastening toward the two sliding doors. Channeling her inner AgentPaige, she ran her finger down all the buzzers, waiting. The intercom crackled,and a second later, the door buzzed open. She ignored the static voice from theintercom saying, “Who is it?” And instead, she hurried into the lobby.

It was nice. To the left, through the largefloor-to-ceiling window, she spotted a glimpse of a belowground pool. Pottedplants and tasteful artwork adorned the walls. Two such plants framed theelevator doors next to the stairs.

She passed the elevator, hurrying to the stairwell andtaking them three at a time, sprinting. She glanced back down at her phone asshe did, fumbling with the device and clicking it on, scanning toward where she’dbeen texted the address.

Third floor. 3G.

She picked up the pace, swirling around one banister,taking the steps rapidly, up the next. And finally, she reached the thirdfloor, slamming her shoulder into the door and bursting out into the hall. Thishallway was also tastefully decorated. More plants, more paintings, and thefaint scent of caramel on the air. She spotted a couple of candles withsputtering wood wicks in alcoves of the concrete walls. Green paint gave way toblue wallpaper, again giving an assuaging, calming feel.

Adele felt anything but calm.

She raced toward the third door on the left. 3G. She staredat the lettering, and gasping, reached out, knocking hard. She shouted. “DGSI!Mrs. Danis, are you all right!”

She waited, listening. Somewhere down the hall, she heard aneighbor’s door open with a click.

“Stay inside,” she shouted over her shoulder. She slammedher fist against 3G again. “DGSI!” she yelled.

No answer. She stared at the door, pondering. No way shecould just kick it in. Something was wrong.

She raised her gun, pointing it at the door handle. “Standback!” she shouted.

She fired twice, angling her body so the bullets wouldn’tricochet. The door handle snapped, and the door clicked. She reached toward theshattered handle, and this time kicking out hard, sending the door careeninginward.

She stood, framed in the doorway, and it took her vision amoment to adjust on the horrifying scene within.

An older woman, with a towel wrapped around her, was lyingon the floor in the hall, struggling and gasping.

A man wearing a monk’s habit stooped over her, snarling,his features stretched in preposterous ways. His hands wrapped around her throat,and beads pressed to her neck, choking the life out of her.

The woman strangled a gasp for air, reaching a hand towardAdele, one hand trying to push back the man choking her.

“You remember me?” the man was saying, his eyes fixed onhis victim. “Did you miss me?”

“Get off!” Adele screamed, finding her voice with aswallow, her gun raised.

If the killer heard her, he gave no indication. He hunchedlike a gargoyle over his victim, his arms strained beneath his monk’s habit,spittle flying from his lips as he muttered quiet musings.

The woman’s face was turning blue. She was no longerchoking or struggling as much. Adele breathed heavily, aiming now, her fingersqueezing the trigger.

But at that moment, the killer seemed to notice her andcontinued strangling, but ducked low, pressing his cheek against the victim’s,whispering, “Did you miss me, Mother Candela?”

Adele noticed one of his hands was missing part of itsthumb where it gripped the rosary wrapped around the older woman’s neck. Adelehesitated for a brief moment, gun raised. She didn’t have a clear shot. Sherefused to be responsible for someone else dying.

With a snarl, Adele sprinted forward, racing along the halland jamming her gun into her holster.

She charged the killer, leaping through the air before she’dcovered half the distance. The killer, though, finally reacted. He spun overthe choking woman, trying to distance himself from Adele. She hurtled past,tripping over his form where he remained hunched, throttling.

“Get away!” he screamed. “Get away! You dare interfere! Go!”

“It’s not her!” Adele screamed, reaching down and grabbingthe man by the neck now, trying to yank him free. “It’s not Candela! It isn’t!”

“How do you know about her!” he screamed, and then tried toadd something else but now Adele’s arm had gripped his throat tightly.

He choked and spluttered and one of his hands released therosary, stretching back and groping toward her to try and rip her off.

Adele held on for dear life, choking the strangler, tryingto keep him from moving. His other hand released now, and his would-be victimlet out a sudden, moaning gasp, accompanied by a pitiful whimper.

The killer went for Adele’s fingers now, trying to crack apinkie back. She yelled, releasing her grip and jerking her hand away. At thesame time, the killer spun around, lashing out at her with untrained but wildabandon.

“Get back!” he screamed. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Adele didn’t hesitate. She darted forward and tackled thebastard off the victim. Shoulder hit chin. Face hit carpet. Pain. A loud thud.

Both of them crashed backward into a door, sending itjarring into the bedroom.

For a brief moment, Adele spotted blood-spattered blanketsand droplets of crimson on the floor. But then, just as quickly, the manstruggled, pushing at her. He shifted and kicked, his features stretched inhorror and fury, his eyes wide, mouth gaping. “Get off me!” he screamed. “Getoff!”

“Stay still,” she gasped, trying to hold on. But he wasstrong, very strong.

With a shout, then a scream, the man flung her bodily withalmost unnatural strength. She slammed back into the wall, stumbling over thegasping form of Mrs. Danis.

Adele tripped and got to her feet again, circling, tryingto reach for her gun. But the killer lashed out, slamming his fist into herwrist. For a brief moment, his stretched, leering features settled into afurious glare.

He had a thin mustache, and wild, bugging eyes. He