The Harder They Fall: The First Gripping Softley Softley Thriller by Alex Smith

Author:Alex Smith [Smith, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

18

Evie swore, her head appearing through the hatch as the sound of knocking echoed around the house.

“Go check,” she said. “Keep low.”

He nodded, walking to the front bedroom and crouching by the window. He knew what he was going to see there before he looked, because he heard the chirp of a radio, a voice in static. Sure enough, when he peeled open the curtain there was a police car blocking the driveway, one cop standing next to the VW and the other hidden beneath the porch as he knocked on the door again.

“Cops,” he said as he ran back through to the landing.

“What?” she hissed back. “How?”

Jack didn’t know, but he figured the sight of a man covered in blood and a woman breaking into the house through the patio doors probably had something to do with it. Jack’s eyes rolled over the briefcase full of cash, and past that the gun.

This was bad.

“Can’t you show them your ID?” he asked. Evie had disappeared again, her reply muffled.

“I told you, I’m suspended. If they catch me here I’m out for good.”

The cop knocked again, the letterbox squeaking as he opened it.

“Hello? Mr Parker? Mrs Parker? Is anyone home?”

Parker? thought Jack. He sniffed, smelling smoke. Evie’s legs slid out of the hatch and she dropped lithely back onto the chair.

“Come on,” she said, picking up the gun. The acrid smell was stronger now, burning Jack’s sinuses. Black curls of smoke drifted down from the hatch.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Covering our tracks, now move.”

She raced down the stairs, in full view of the cop at the front door.

“Hey, open the door,” he yelled, but she ignored him, running back into the kitchen. Jack followed, his hand concealing his face as he tripped through the hallway. He almost stopped, almost ran to the door and opened it. Whatever he was caught up in, wouldn’t it be better to have the police involved? He hadn’t done anything wrong, he’d just gone to his brother’s funeral. They could keep him safe, they could keep his family safe, especially when Evie told them who she was and what was going on.

But he didn’t stop, he didn’t open the door. We don’t talk to the police. That message he’d heard over and over and over again his whole childhood was ingrained in him, it was part of his DNA. He bolted into the kitchen instead, seeing the broken patio door and knowing that any second now one of the cops was going to storm through it.

They had to move, fast, but Evie was wrestling the double-width Rangemaster out from its space between the units, her knife clamped between her teeth. She climbed on top of it, sawing at something. There was a furious hiss and almost instantly the air became thick with the stench of gas. She jumped off, grabbing a handful of forks from the drawer and throwing them into the microwave.

“What—” Jack asked as she turned the dial to 10 minutes and pressed the button.

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