The Boy on the Highway: A twisted psychological crime thriller set in Russia (Zoya Volkova Crime Thrillers Book 1) by Nadya Frank

Author:Nadya Frank [Frank, Nadya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2021-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

Back home, Kirill was lounging on the couch, his feet propped up on the duffel bag. His eyes, as usual, were on his phone.

“I’m not sure there’s Wi-Fi where we’re going.” Rimma picked up a gift basket the size of a modest flowerbed. The basket had been delivered an hour after the whole managing company’s crew had showed up on her porch with their apologies about the village’s failed security. If they thought she had made the whole thing up, they knew better than to antagonize a rich resident.

“And where are we going, Mom?” Kirill asked.

“A lake house.” Rimma unwrapped the basket and pulled out the fruit from inside. She washed them quickly. A cold draft was coming from the broken window, now covered with a piece of plywood. The managers had assured Rimma they would send a handyman over.

“Whose lake house?”

She pivoted, a pomegranate in her hand, water dripping on the floor, and met her son’s gaze. His face was indifferent, but she could sense the defiance beneath the calm expression. Kirill slouched against a pillow, a tiny figure in the middle of the holy mess of her living room.

Earlier she had caught him going through medications in the kitchen drawer. She put a mental note: make sure the lake house had only aspirin and laxatives. Not that she thought he was actually looking into self-harm, but better safe than sorry.

“It’s a friend’s place,” she lied. “An old friend from university. You don’t know her. Are your bags ready?”

Rimma packed the fruit into an insulated bag with other groceries, leaving the flowers to rot in the basket on the counter. She threw a final glance at the room, the memories still too fresh in her head: the assailant disappearing from the window at the sound of gunshots, her walking toward the window. The man emerged again from the dark as if he had changed his mind. He reached for her, she slipped and fell, cutting her arm on the glass. Dima was on the porch by then, yelling her name, asking if she was fine.

After the police left, Rimma placed wet towels on the blood stains, but never got to clean them. The towels dried out, fusing to the carpet. Pieces of clothes scattered around and unwashed cups completed the chaos she was leaving behind.

Twenty minutes later, Rimma dropped her purse on the back seat of her Lexus. Kirill sat in the passenger seat next to her. Part of her wanted to tell him to sit in the back. That was how he survived the first shooting, right? She eased the car through the gate and waved to the guard in the booth window. The guard that was supposed to protect their home from break-ins and had failed.

They still were at the gate when a taxi swerved into the driveway from the main road and stopped, blocking her path. Rimma hit the brakes.

The taxi’s passenger door opened. Pelageya headed toward them and slapped her palms against the hood.

“What the hell?” she yelled.

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