Cat and Mouse (An Adam and Eve Thriller Book 3) by Mark Ayre

Author:Mark Ayre [Ayre, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AFS Publishing
Published: 2020-07-29T16:00:00+00:00

Lucy dumped her prisoner in the living room and took in the place. She ended her scan on Hattie, who sat in the corner, head bowed like a shy child. She clutched her wine glass stem as though afraid the newcomer might try to steal from her the precious elixir.

“You must be Henrietta. Lovely to meet you.”

Hattie nodded. Used to her tempestuous and abrasive nature, especially when drinking, Omi was surprised to see her cower. He had believed Sandra’s daughter looked ordinary, his fear deriving from his knowledge of her terrible acts. She did look normal. She might also give off a terrifying vibe Omi would have sensed, had he not been expecting fear.

Feeling sorry for the nervous teenager, Omi said, “She prefers Hattie.”

“And who can blame her?” said Lucy. “Parents should not be allowed to name their children. They’re not the ones who will suffer the tag. I wasn’t born a Lucy. I took the name.”

Omi shivered. She spoke as though she had stolen the moniker from another at knifepoint. Likely, the name had belonged to an early victim. An innocent, forever lost to her family while this monster walked free, using her name.

Sandra’s daughter, who hated her birth name, said to Omi. “What about Delilah?”

Omi prayed what he felt in his heart did not show on his face. For several seconds, he could not find the strength to respond.

“She likes her name,” he said at last.

Stepping closer to the guard, Lucy met his eyes. A tingling ran up his spine, over his skull. Omi was sure Lucy had the power to read neither minds nor souls. Still, he retreated and blinked, as though to break a spell.

Chuckling at his discomfort, Lucy said, “May I see her?”

His heart beat with a single word. No, no, no. Faster and faster. No, no, no, no, no. To verbalise this primal reaction might be to sign his death warrant. Though it was unfair, he turned to Hattie.

“You should ask her mother.”

“Should I?”

That stare again. Those eyes were hypnotising. They had Omi primed to reveal his deepest secrets. That he loved the girl like a daughter; that he found the idea of this monster sitting in the presence of Delilah’s innocence repugnant; that he might prevent it at any cost.

Lucy looked away, sparing him from making these treasonous remarks.

“Hattie,” she said. “Would you mind awfully if Omi introduced me to your daughter? I’ve heard so much about her.”

Hattie did not look. Head bowed, she gulped wine, slopping it down her front because of the angle. Omi believed Hattie loved her daughter and did not want to allow Lucy access. The spillage emptied her glass. The need to refill her drink overpowered all else.

Standing, she said, as one run-on sentence, “If Omi thinks it’s okay then it’s okay please excuse me I need to go and see to something thank you sorry.”

Lucy watched the teenager scurry from the room and smiled as the kitchen door slammed.

“You’re all very cordial and accommodating,” she said to Omi without looking at him.

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