The Sometime Sister by Katherine Nichols (e novels for free .TXT) 📗

Stay still, stay still, stay still. I repeated my silent mantra. And it worked. The walls receded, my breathing settled, and my body cooled. That’s when something squirmy and hairy brushed against my cheek, dropped onto my shoulder, and skittered down the back of my dress.

Wave after wave of uncontrollable screams echoed around me as I tugged at the straps of my sundress and yanked it down to my waist. I lifted my hips and slithered out of it. The warm, fuzzy thing continued to scamper around on my back, and I flailed my arms over my shoulders. I didn’t hear when the door opened. Light flooded my hiding place. I reached for the pool cue and jabbed it in front of me.

Blinded by the flashlight beam, I didn’t recognize him until he spoke. “Easy there, Grace. It’s me, Prez. There’s no reason to be scared. I’m not going to hurt you.”

About that time a fat, hairy spider scuttled to my side. His long legs ended in what looked like pink booties. I threw the pool stick toward Prez and scrambled out of the closet on all fours, running straight into a pair of bright orange and purple tennis shoes.

He helped me up, then glanced down at the creature who had terrified me. “Not to worry, Grace. That’s only a pink-toed tarantula. They’re all over the place here. The little guys are pretty chill. He didn’t bite you, did he?”

“I don’t think so.” I stood behind him, wearing only my bra and shorts. “Would you mind?” I pointed to where my sundress lay in a wad.

He tossed me the wrinkled garment. “Even if you got bitten, you’d just get all swollen and nasty. People almost never die except in the case of a super bad reaction.”

Before I slipped the dress over my head, I thought of the gunshots from the upper rooms.

“How did you know where to find me?” I asked, trying to sound calm.

“It wasn’t too hard. This is where Ben said you’d be.”

Then I saw the gun in his hand.

Chapter 28

Unable to reconcile Prez, the ultimate hippy, with Prez, armed and dangerous, I could only stare at the dead-eyed man while trying to make sense of it all. Why would Ben tell him anything?

Regardless of their relationship, it was obvious Prez hadn’t come to rescue me. I glanced toward the stairwell, looking for the broken pool cue. It was too far to reach and would be of little use against a gun. The bottle of tequila still sat on the edge of the bar. If I could get to it, I could hurl it at his head and make a break for the stairs. Then I could grab the pool stick and run. But to do that, I had to take him by surprise.

“I don’t understand,” I said, hoping to distract him with conversation. “Why would he tell you where we were going?”

“It’s a long story, and I’m not sure we have time right now. Your ex and I were both working for your sister’s friend, Balsuto. He handled legal shit for him, and I,” he said, laughing, “handled illegal shit for him. Pretty much everything about that dude is illegal, but that’s beside the point.” He checked his watch.

“Anyway, we worked a few deals on our own. But you already know about that, don’t you, Grace?” He grinned.

A separate deal between Ben and Prez, somehow double-crossing Adelmo—that was what they thought I’d heard. But why did it matter? I had no proof, and the local police wouldn’t be interested if I did. And shouldn’t they be worried about Harry and Justin having the same information? But they hadn’t had private communications with him. Only I had. So, it wasn’t the authorities they feared; it was Adelmo.

“What if I do?” I asked, trying to determine what he wanted from me.

“Don’t get smart with me,” he snarled.

Outside, the wind gusted, and a glass door shattered. He leaped toward the sound, firing his weapon several times. I dove for the tequila bottle. Never much of an athlete, I had a few shining moments as junior varsity pitcher on my high school softball team. I had the lowest batting averages and could never get the hang of sliding into a base, but I had a mean arm. I prayed I hadn’t forgotten how to put one over the plate.

Prez stopped shooting but continued to scan the room. I aimed and hurled the tequila straight at him. He glanced up just as the bottle smacked him on the bridge of his nose. After giving me a puzzled look, he touched his injury and wiped at the blood dripping down his chin. Then he howled.

I didn’t wait for his next move. I grabbed the pool stick and took the stairs two at a time. Inside the main house, I latched the door and surveyed the area. I was in a brightly lit kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. In front of the enormous sub-zero refrigerator, a gaping hole in his forehead, lay Javi.

Blood pounded in my ears as I ran past his body into a high-ceilinged formal living area. Like the room below, a wall of sliding glass doors provided a view of rocky cliffs above the ocean, barely visible in the whipping rain.

Please don’t be locked. Don’t be locked. Thank God, they weren’t. I rushed through them onto a deck that ran the full length of the house. Metal recliners and tables stacked at random angles complicated my search for an exit. I spotted stairs at the far end and bounded toward them as fast as the cluttered surface allowed.

A wave of vertigo brought me to an abrupt stop. Thick clouds of mist hovered over the faraway ground. The banister seemed sturdy, but if I made a false step on the slippery wood, I would crash to the bottom. Like a tightrope walker without a net, I took hold of