Find Me (42 page)

Instinct nudged her.

Or did she? Something still didn't feel right. Maybe it was the drugs.

Kale kissed her forehead, dragging her back to happier thoughts. "I'm glad to hear that."

Sarah smiled. Maybe it was the knock on the head or the medicine or a combination of both, but she suddenly wondered where this guy had been all her life.

The door opened. "Kale, let somebody else in!" Polly flashed a grin at her. "Hey, Sarah!" Then the door closed as if someone had pulled the girl back.

Kale managed to smile. "You heard that. I've got to let the others have a turn."

Damn, Sarah was finally Ms. Popular.

Sarah held on to his hand. "I don't want you to go." But she needed to see Matilda and Polly and whoever else was out there. "Can you send Matilda in next?"

"I can try."

He let go of her hand long enough to cross to the door. He stuck his head out and murmured to those waiting outside. When he drew back into the room, he pulled Matilda in with him. She wore her usual goth getup. Sarah was seriously glad to see her. A smile dragged at her chapped lips.

"You made it," the kid said quietly as she moved up to Sarah's bedside. "I knew you would."

Sarah searched her face, wondered if she should even ask. "How did you find me?"

Matilda's gaze locked with hers, a frown lined her brow. "I don't know what you mean."

Okay, so she'd imagined the whole thing. "I dreamed you were there with me. You kept telling me to stay awake."

Matilda searched her eyes. "I was really worried about you." She placed her hand atop Sarah's. "I could feel how bad it was for you. I… I was afraid for you." She squeezed Sarah's hand. "So I closed my eyes and thought of you. I saw myself protecting you and bringing you back safely." A faint smile tilted the girl's lips. "I guess it worked. Kind of like prayer."

"You were right about Pope," Sarah told her. "He's pretty much the devil. He and your mother had a run-in. I guess that's why you got those bad vibes about him."

Matilda shrugged. "I get feelings about people all the time. No big deal. It's just the way it is. My instincts about him were just stronger than most."

Yeah, Sarah mused, no big deal. Though she still didn't believe in all that ESP junk or woo-woo stuff, she knew Matilda was a very special young lady.

"I should go back out there." Matilda glanced at the man waiting a few feet away. "Polly and a bunch of other people want to see you, too."

Sarah tried to smile but her lips quivered. "I'll see you later."

Matilda leaned down, kissed her on the forehead, then whispered in her ear, "The police couldn't get him, but you did. You're special, Sarah Newton."

Before Sarah could speak, Matilda had hurried from the room.

Warm, salty tears slid from Sarah's eyes. She wasn't special. Matilda was the one who was special.

Kale hovered over Sarah once more. He took her hand. "You okay?" He swiped the dampness from her cheeks with warm fingers.

"Yeah. I'm good." She searched his eyes, wanted him to see the truth in her words. "I'm better than I've ever been."

He kissed her nose. "Good." He glanced at the door. "Look, there's going to be a riot out there if I don't let Polly in here."

"On one condition," Sarah told him.

"What's that?"

"Kiss me." What was he waiting for? "I almost died. I deserve a real kiss, at least."

He kissed her.

He'd found her.

Or maybe she'd found him.

Either way, she was never looking back. She had a new philosophy. The truth is always going to be what it is, but she now knew it could be altered by many things, life, hope… and even prayer.

And by certain… special people.

The truth is what it is, but sometimes it was not what it seemed.

The truth was, it was time to get over the past and make herself a future.

Sarah had come to find a killer, and she had. But the
truth
was, she'd found far more.

She'd found Kale.

She'd found herself.

Strange.

Jerri Lynn Pope walked along the massive entry hall.

There was no one left of her family but her.

She was like an orphan.

She drifted into the kitchen and rummaged in the fridge. She should eat. It was well past lunch. There was a lot of change going on in her life. She needed her strength.

There was no one to take care of her now. She had to learn to take care of all her needs.

Cheese, fruit… nothing appealed to her.

When she noticed the thick slab of filet mignon her father had intended to grill today, she smiled. That would work.

Jerri Lynn grabbed the dish, set it on the counter and went in search of a knife.

She selected a butcher knife and studied the glint of light from the windows on the blade. She loved those mesmerizing glints. Loved the way they flashed so brightly.

On second thought she grabbed the bowl of salad and her favorite dressing from the fridge.

Perfect. Steak and salad.

She sliced into the thick meat; red ran from its tender flesh. She shivered. She lifted a small piece, considered its color and texture, then popped it into her mouth.

She chewed. Closed her eyes and moaned.

There was nothing quite as good as raw meat.

She thought of how her own blood tasted whenever she cut herself. Would human flesh taste as good as the steak?

Jerri Lynn's pulse reacted to the concept. She studied the red trickling down the knife blade.

One day soon… very soon… perhaps she would know for sure.

"I found the pajamas."

Jerri Lynn looked up as Tamara padded into the kitchen. Tamara struck a pose to show off her new loungewear.

Jerri Lynn smiled. Her one true friend. "You look delicious."

Tamara grinned. "Thank you."

Perhaps one day soon Jerri Lynn would know many new things.

Keep reading for a sneak peek at Debra Webb's next novel

EVERYWHERE SHE TURNS

Available soon from St. Martin's Paperbacks

Huntsville, Alabama

Saturday, July
31, 6:30 A.M.

Women.

Bitches. Every fucking one of them.

The world was about to be rid of one more stupid bitch.

All he had to do was catch her.

Laughter burst from his chest as she darted from the alley, plunging into the dark cover of the woods in a last-ditch effort to save herself.

Did she really think she could escape him that easily?

Stupid, stupid bitch.

Not in this life.

In this life, he was the killer. And she… well, she was the victim.

The only decision that remained was the manner of death.

Slice open her silky white throat?

No. Too cliché.

The memorable mark of a truly magnificent killer was at its core quite simple…
originality
.

He allowed her a few precious seconds. Just enough to provide a fleeting glimmer of hope. Then he charged into the damp, dense woods, using the trampled underbrush she'd left in her wake as his path.

She should just face the one undeniable fact close enough to feel its hot brush on the nape of her fragile neck.

She was dead.

Within the hour her heart would slow to a complete stop… heat would begin to seep from her flesh and the final image captured on her retinas would fade to black.

His face would be that last image.

At that trauma-filled moment, when her brain released the massive dump of endorphins that gifted the dying with an eerie calm as their entire pathetic lives flashed like a bad movie trailer through their impotent minds, she would recognize her one fatal mistake.

She shouldn't have gotten in the way.

Bravado… curiosity… whatever it was that made her dare to step out of her place, it was just another bad choice in a long line of bad choices littering an insignificant existence mere minutes from being over.

Even now as he grew nearer and nearer, so shockingly near he could hear the humid air raging in and out of her desperate lungs… could feel the sheer terror throttling through her veins… she still couldn't help herself.

She had to glance back. To see the truth that had been right in front of her for the duration of her short life.

He smiled.

This was going to be fun.