AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They’d talked to each other, played games, encouraged each other, comforted each other—they’d been each other’s lifeline. Clara didn’t think she would have survived if it hadn’t been for Tommy. He’d been there for her after they’d returned home and to their regular lives, too. She’d never seen him be violent; she’d never seen him touch a child inappropriately or even hint that it was something he thought about. She’d known that he battled depression at times, but nothing to suggest he was capable of such horrible crimes. Never in her wildest dreams would Clara have seen him as anything other than the quiet, shy, sweet guy she’d always known.
And yet he wasn't any of those things.
He was a cold-hearted, vicious, child rapist, and killer.
Trying to reconcile that was making her head hurt.
At the funeral service, she’d sat quietly, listening to Mrs. Karl talk on and on about all her happy memories with Tommy. When the woman had asked her if she’d like to speak, she’d had to say that she wasn't up to recounting memories. How could she stand there and say nice things about someone she clearly hadn’t known at all?
After the minister had spoken and the casket had been lowered into the ground, Mrs. Karl had invited her to spend the afternoon together, but again she had declined. Instead, she had stood at Tommy’s grave trying to make sense out of the nonsensical and understand what had made Tommy change. She had been trying so hard to comprehend it that she hadn’t even registered the rain.
If Jonathon hadn’t come and found her, she would probably still be standing there.
Jonathon.
Maybe that was why she was having trouble sleeping—subconsciously she was waiting for him to arrive. After only two nights, she’d grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms. Talking with him yesterday had given her hope, that Jonathon might hold the key to helping her learn how to enjoy life again.
That he’d trusted her with the secret that his sister was also a victim of the Doll Killers was also important to her. Sure, it had hurt her when she’d thought he was implying that he wished he could trade her life for his sister’s, but she believed him when he’d said that wasn't what he’d meant. Now she just wanted to remember everything she could about the time she’d been missing so she could help him bring peace to his dying mother by solving this case.
She gave up on sleep for the moment. Maybe she’d go and see if there was any sign of Jonathon. She crept quietly out of her room, not wanting to wake Naomi who was asleep in the spare room. Downstairs she looked out the front windows but didn’t see Jonathon’s car. It was a beautiful night, though—clear sky, full of merrily twinkling stars, and a huge full moon.
Since she was up, she may as well have something to eat. There was a lot to choose from thanks to Naomi’s baking binge. Choosing a cupcake that Naomi had made rainbow colored by coloring and layering the mixture before putting them in the oven, she put the kettle on to boil, then realized the clothes Jonathon had put in the washing machine earlier were still there. She’d forgotten about them until just now, but now that she had remembered them she may as well throw them in the dryer.
Clara was just opening the laundry room door when someone grabbed her.
At first, she thought it was Jonathon, but why would he grab her without saying something? Maybe he didn’t want to wake Naomi?
No.
It wasn't Jonathon whose hand clamped painfully on her shoulder.
Someone was here in her house.
She knew instinctively that it was the Doll Killers. They had come back to reclaim her. They’d already reclaimed Tommy—she was all that was left now.
These people werenottaking her again.
Yanking her arm free, she stumbled backward, almost losing her footing and bumping against the door, sending it banging into the wall.
Before she could recover, something sharp scraped down her cheek. As her hands sprung reflexively to her face, someone grabbed her arms and jerked her forward.
Clara was opening her mouth to scream when a voice spoke.
“Step away from her, put the knife down, and put your hands on your head.”
Naomi was here.
She was safe.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Clara ordered herself to calm down. The Doll Killers weren’t going to get her again. Her sister wouldn’t let that happen; as long as Naomi was here, she was okay.
“Call the cops, Clara,” Naomi ordered.
The woman who had attacked her released her grip on Clara’s shoulders but still stood between her and her sister, blocking her path.
“I said, step away from her.” Naomi came to physically move the woman.
Clara saw the glint of metal too late to yell a warning.
