Sweet Shop 05 - Back on the Sweets by Wendy Meadows

Sweet Shop 05 - Back on the Sweets by Wendy Meadows

Author:Wendy Meadows [Meadows, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 53449968
Publisher: Majestic Owl Publishing LLC
Published: 2020-01-01T05:00:00+00:00


9

My eyes snap open. I bolt upright and look all around me before I realize where I am. My head pounds with splitting pain and I can’t move my arms. I’m sitting in the back of a box van trundling down the road with my hands tied behind my back.

I struggle but I can’t free myself. My head hurts too much to do anything, anyway. I think fast—at least, I try to think fast. Where am I? Who kidnapped me? I can think of only one person.

I feel a lump in my pocket—my phone. Whoever captured me must have picked it up and put it in my pocket. What murderer would do something so foolish?

I strain my wrists but I can’t reach it. If I can only contact David, he could use his Police resources to track my phone. No, I can’t contact David. He’s halfway to Hartford by now, and he makes a religious policy never to answer his phone while he drives.

My head spins. I have to get out of here. I can’t let Rocky make me his next victim. I have a family. I have people waiting for me. I have Thanksgiving to look forward to. I can’t miss that.

All at once, the van skids to a stop. The brakes squeak and the motor shuts down. The next instant, Rocky jumps out of the driver’s seat and enters into the back. He squats down right in front of me. His face contorts in rage and he pokes his finger in my face. “All right. Start talking! Why were you following me? I could call the cops and have you arrested for harassment, you know.”

“I was….” I stammer. “I was just….”

“You think I killed Mr. Stewart, don’t you? Don’t you?” He thunders in my face so loudly I jump out of my skin. My terror alone stops me from answering.

“Yes!” I screech. “Yes, I think you killed Mr. Stewart.”

“Why?” he booms. “What do you have against me?”

The longer this goes on, the more I realize this conversation isn’t going the way most confrontations with murderers go. I should know. I’ve had enough of them.

“You argued with him right before he died,” I tell him. “The video footage shows you behind his building.”

“So what?” he fires back. “That doesn’t mean I killed him.”

I blink the confusion out of my eyes and take a look at him for the first time. He scares the bejeezus out of me, but his words override my initial judgment. Maybe I misjudged him the same way I misjudged Gilly and Mr. Stewart and a lot of other people. Maybe he isn’t a bruiser or a killer at all. “If you didn’t kill him, why did you hide those pills in Maria’s dumpster?”

He glares at me for another minute. Then he slumps onto the van floor. He crosses his legs and his shoulders slouch. “I knew it,” he grumbles. “I knew this would happen. Now I’m going back to Riker’s.”

My jaw drops. “Riker’s Island?”

He nods. “I’m on parole.



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