MARRIED TO A STRANGER an unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist (Totally Gripping Psychological Thrillers) by PATRICIA MACDONALD

Author:PATRICIA MACDONALD [MACDONALD, PATRICIA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books psychological thriller and crime
Published: 2022-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Oh God, no, she thought desperately. My baby!

Suddenly Emma was jerked back, nearly strangled by the fastened neck of her cape. Her head snapped forward. Her arms flailed, and she fell, landing on one hip with a sharp crack. The train was screaming by and she saw the lights from inside the cars careening past.

The skateboarder, in a black watch cap pulled low and a baggy sweatshirt, one sneakered foot on the board, one on the ground, bent down and regarded her warily. “You okay?” he asked.

The boy had swept behind her and yanked her cape. His young reflexes had saved her. Emma, stunned to be alive and safe, tried to speak but couldn’t. She nodded.

A man in a Burberry trench coat, who had just stepped out of the station house with a middle-aged woman in a black coat, rushed up to them. “What the hell did you do to this woman?”

“I didn’t do nothin’ to her,” the kid snarled.

The man in the trench coat crouched down and put an arm under Emma’s shoulders. “Here, let me help you. Are you all right?” he asked.

“You kids and your skateboards,” muttered the woman to the skateboarder. “You’ll kill someone someday.”

Emma was shuddering. She wanted to explain, but the fastened cape had pressed on her windpipe and only a squeak came out.

“You, young man, you stay right there. I want to talk to you,” said the older man in the trench coat, pointing at the skateboarder.

The skateboarder flipped them all the finger as he resumed his swift, illegal cruise, this time leaping off the edge of the platform and into the parking lot.

“Delinquent,” muttered the man. “Did he hurt you? Are you all right? What happened here?”

Emma grasped the sleeve of the man’s coat. The train had passed and the station was silent again. “It wasn’t him,” she managed to croak. “Someone . . . pushed me from behind. Tried to push me in front of the train.”

The man frowned at her. “Are you sure about that? They pushed you deliberately?”

“My baby,” Emma cried. “What about my baby?”

“My God, was there a child with you?” the man cried.

Emma shook her head. “I’m pregnant,” she said. Then she began to weep.

“Linda,” the man said to his wife, not taking his eyes off Emma. “Get out your cell. Call 911.”

* * *

Joan Atkins, alerted by the Clarenceville police, careened into the parking lot of the station. The local police were there in force, flashing red lights everywhere in the lot, black-and-whites parked at odd angles. An ambulance was there as well, the doors to the bay already open. The news media, ever alert to the police scanner, were also out in force, although they were being held outside the station itself by a uniformed policeman. Joan flashed her badge to part the crowd and hurried up the steps and into the station house.

There were at least ten cops in the tiny building. Two of them were talking to the station master in hushed tones.

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