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

Shepressed the buzzer at the gate and waited quietly.

Amoment passed, then another. She frowned, her eyes flicking toward the oldmansion. The light was on inside the study, beaming through a cracked window.

“Robert?”she called, her voice faint in the darkness.

Noanswer.

Sheglanced at her phone—no new texts. She buzzed the intercom again.

Nothing.

Threea.m. now. Nearly a half hour since he’d invited her over. Had Robert fallenasleep? For a moment she considered leaving, letting her old mentor get hisrest. But then her eyes flitted to the light inside the mansion, and she wentstill.

Robertwasn’t the sort to leave a light on. He was very conscious about that sort ofthing. And why was the window open? Again, not something Robert would do beforefalling asleep—he was a security snob too. Hence the cameras, the gate, and thealarm system on the front and back doors.

“Robert?”she called, a bit louder this time, then glancing sheepishly toward a couple ofthe other enormous houses across the street.

Nolights from within those. Only a single beacon of illumination streamingthrough Robert’s window.

Adelesighed, raised her phone, and called her old mentor.

Shewaited as the dial tone continued ringing in the background. Her eyes flittedthrough the black marble bars, settling on one of the statues. A small marbleangel had been toppled, planted face-first in the mud.

“Robert?”Adele called a bit louder now, facing the open window and still hearing thesound of the ring tone in her ear.

Afteranother few rings, she hung up and stared at the fence.

“Great,”she muttered to herself. She leaned her laptop bag and old carry-on against theivy-covered wall and backed up a few steps, preparing for a running start.Vaguely, she was reminded of a case when she’d broken into an alley behind anauto shop with John. They’d climbed a fence then too.

Shesmiled for a moment, still angled toward the gate.

JohnRenee was a strange one. An odd combination of infuriating and intoxicating…

Shepaused now, one foot off the curb, prepared for a running start. For a moment,she considered John. Considered her father. Considered it all.

Hermother’s killer had driven a rift between her and Renee. Had highlighted thecracks in the relationship she shared with her father. She’d made it all sopersonal. Focused far too much on the killer as a monster, as someone worthy ofretribution. And yet he was a person. Just like the other murderers, just likethe valet.

Sheshook her head, one foot still off the curb, braced on the street where shefaced the gate. Her eyes slipped toward the crumpled strap of her abandonedlaptop bag and the carry-on. No one in this neighborhood would take them. Noone would likely even be awake.

Shelowered her head for a moment, feeling her lips tingle as memories surfaced,playing across her mind’s eye and bringing with them a thought of John. She’dkissed him back. But did she regret it?

Shedidn’t know what she thought. John was a man in motion—a form of action in andof himself. And yet was that the life she wanted? Forever? Did she want to livein a way that required the level of danger John seemed to crave?

Didshe even want to continue this job forever? Adele sighed. She didn’t like whereher mind wandered so late at night.

Regardless,she’d made it too personal. Too personal with John, too personal with herfather—not the relationships themselves, but the impact they had on thecase. The impact, more importantly, the case had on the relationships. Hermother was dead. Ten years had passed. The killer was out there, likelyretreating, hiding in the shadows, disappearing from the radar of any lawenforcement agency.

Aghost in the wind.

She’dbeen left with dust at her fingertips. She couldn’t allow it to remain sopersonal. It would consume her alive.

Witha reluctant, but strengthening nod, Adele focused on the gate once more.Glanced through the cracked window into the study, where light was stillshining, and then, when Robert didn’t buzz the gate, she broke into a sprint,taking the three wild strides to cover the distance between the curb and thesteel bars.

Sheflung herself at the gate and in three quick motions, kicked off the stone wallcovered in ivy, snared the top of the metal barrier, and pulled herself up andover, vaulting the barricade and landing with a dull thump on the otherside, facing Robert’s garden.

Adelebrushed the dust off her hands and smiled to herself, moving rapidly toward thefront of the mansion. She passed the fallen angel in the mud and paused for amoment, reaching down and plucking up the marble creation, setting it back upas it had been. She frowned at the mud and dirt streaking the sculpted featuresand, dropping low, she rubbed her sleeve in the grooves of the statue’s face,removing the grime and mud as best she could. Some of it fell away, but mostlyit just streaked the statue.

Shesighed and shrugged to herself. It was the best she could do; she’d just haveto mention it to Robert so he could clean the statue properly.

Shemoved across the flagstones, through the garden and toward a row of hedgesbeneath the open window facing the study. She couldn’t spot the fire in thefireplace, but did note the overhead chandelier buzzing with electricity andilluminating the room beyond. Adele frowned, leaning toward the open window.

“Robert!”she called.

Noanswer.

“Robert!”She raised her voice, now feeling a prickle of fear claw its way up her spine.She checked her phone again. No texts, no calls.

Thefear came like a flash flood, bringing with it all manner of horribleimaginings regarding her old mentor and friend. Had his sickness finallyovertaken him? What if he was in the bath somewhere, gasping for breath,desperate for help?

Adelecursed and bounded up the steps to the front door. She reached out, slamming ahand against the brass knocker and jamming a finger into the buzzer. The twosounds broke rhythmically in the night. One moment, a faint humming buzz fromwithin, the next a deep, bellowing knock from the door itself.

Again,no response, no answer—the door remained sealed.

“Damnit, Robert!” Adele said, her fear rising in her gut.

Fora moment, she considered calling the emergency services. But then inwardlykicked herself. “That’s you, dummy,” she muttered to herself.

Shetried the knocker one last time,