“Now,” I said. Ricky glanced back and started to turn, but Thomas Bain placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t run away. I just want to talk to you.” He looked past Ricky and met my eyes. “You’re the girl who found Bethany’s body, right?” I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. I might be facing a murderer. Spots danced before my eyes and the ground seemed to shift. Thomas Bain moved forward, guiding Ricky along. “I want to thank you.” Thank me? I fought back the waves of dizziness and nausea and tried t...o focus on the man. He looked perfectly ordinary. He was a few inches taller than Ricky, maybe five foot eight. Average build, not particularly muscular. Brown hair, brown eyes without any glimmer of evil in them, a bit of stubble as if he hadn’t shaved that morning. He looked tired. I wouldn’t have noticed him on the street. I still wanted to get away. Ricky was fumbling with his phone, holding it close to his body where Bain might not notice. I hoped he was calling the police.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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