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Ыоуве Been Warned :: Patterson James
Страница: 66 из 138But here I am!
Standing in front of the hotel, watching as a few well-heeled guests exit and enter under the same red awning where the four gurneys came rollingout, I can’t help dwelling on one of the other strange “coincidences.”
My pictures.
Specifically, the transparent effect that happened with the body bags. And then with Penley.
There has to be some logical connection here… But what is it? And does everything in life have to be logical? Since when?
It would be so easy to say that the dream I keep having is a premonition. I never used to believe in that psychic stuff, but now I’m willing to change my mind. Except the dream already came true. I saw it with my own eyes. Standing in this exact spot, no less.
The people in those body bags are stone cold dead. Penley – as if I need to be reminded – is very much alive.
Don’t go there.
I can’t help it, though. The thought creeps into my head, as it’s done a few times before. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s horrible even to think it.
And still, I do.
It’s Penley who stands in the way of everything. Were it not for her, I’d have Michael. I’d have Dakota and Sean. I’d have everything I ever wanted.
If only Penley weren’t in the picture.
Chapter 51
SERIOUSLY.
Don’t. Go. There.
With every step, I try talking myself out of it, but there’s another voice, a louder voice – one I barely even recognize as my own – propelling me.
My strides get longer and faster; I’m moving on adrenaline from head to toe. The night air is crisp, a lot cooler than usual for May, and I feel a slight sting on my cheeks.
I look up.Yes. Of course there’s a full moon!
What should be a ten-minute walk takes only five, and before I know it I’m standing right across the street from Michael’s building.
I check my watch. It’s a few minutes past midnight.
And you thought you got Michael angry in Connecticut? That was nothing compared to this.
Through the large glass panels flanking the entrance, I can see the night doorman killing time at his desk. I try to remember his name and I’m almost positive it’s Adam. I’ve only met him once or twice before, when he was filling in on the day shift.
It doesn’t matter.
I dial the building’s number on my cell phone and watch as he picks up. They always answer the same way, announcing the address in lieu of “Hello.”
“Is this Adam?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Hi, it’s Kristin, the nanny for the Turnbulls.
Standing in front of the hotel, watching as a few well-heeled guests exit and enter under the same red awning where the four gurneys came rollingout, I can’t help dwelling on one of the other strange “coincidences.”
My pictures.
Specifically, the transparent effect that happened with the body bags. And then with Penley.
There has to be some logical connection here… But what is it? And does everything in life have to be logical? Since when?
It would be so easy to say that the dream I keep having is a premonition. I never used to believe in that psychic stuff, but now I’m willing to change my mind. Except the dream already came true. I saw it with my own eyes. Standing in this exact spot, no less.
The people in those body bags are stone cold dead. Penley – as if I need to be reminded – is very much alive.
Don’t go there.
I can’t help it, though. The thought creeps into my head, as it’s done a few times before. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s horrible even to think it.
And still, I do.
It’s Penley who stands in the way of everything. Were it not for her, I’d have Michael. I’d have Dakota and Sean. I’d have everything I ever wanted.
If only Penley weren’t in the picture.
Chapter 51
SERIOUSLY.
Don’t. Go. There.
With every step, I try talking myself out of it, but there’s another voice, a louder voice – one I barely even recognize as my own – propelling me.
My strides get longer and faster; I’m moving on adrenaline from head to toe. The night air is crisp, a lot cooler than usual for May, and I feel a slight sting on my cheeks.
I look up.Yes. Of course there’s a full moon!
What should be a ten-minute walk takes only five, and before I know it I’m standing right across the street from Michael’s building.
I check my watch. It’s a few minutes past midnight.
And you thought you got Michael angry in Connecticut? That was nothing compared to this.
Through the large glass panels flanking the entrance, I can see the night doorman killing time at his desk. I try to remember his name and I’m almost positive it’s Adam. I’ve only met him once or twice before, when he was filling in on the day shift.
It doesn’t matter.
I dial the building’s number on my cell phone and watch as he picks up. They always answer the same way, announcing the address in lieu of “Hello.”
“Is this Adam?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Hi, it’s Kristin, the nanny for the Turnbulls.