The Alley by Kathy Garthwaite

Author:Kathy Garthwaite [GARTHWAITE, KATHY]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS bestselling crime fiction publisher
Published: 2020-08-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

By the time Flint was dropped off at the station, it was well past her daughter’s bedtime. Again. So instead of getting into her car and heading home, she unlocked the front door and went to her office. She propped her feet up on the desk, leaned back into her chair and placed her hands behind her head. The sun cut through a low cloud in the sky and shone into the room.

Flint closed her eyes and basked for a while in the warmth, breathing deeply as her thoughts drifted, meandering here and there, then landing on the one thing she constantly tried to hide from – that fateful day in the alley. She wasn’t even supposed to be there, but they were short of bodies, and she was the only trained officer available. At first, Flint had blamed the superintendent for putting her in the thick of it. Now, she blamed herself for everything that had happened. If only she hadn’t been so afraid of her own shadow, it would have turned out differently. Martin would still be alive.

A dull thud startled Flint from her short nap. From her nightmare.

Jarrett stood in the doorway.

“Are you okay?”

No, I froze, Flint thought.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Flint answered brusquely, crumpling a paper from her in-tray and tossing it into the waste basket. “What do you want?”

Jarrett took a step back, surprised with the curtness of her reply.

Flint stood up. “Sorry,” she mumbled guiltily. “Are you up for something?”

“Sure. Like what?” Jarrett moved into the room and exhaled a large breath of air.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

They jumped into an unmarked vehicle and drove to the main drag. After a few passes, Flint steered to the lane that ran behind the stores on the north side of the street. She cruised slowly, scanning each back lot as they passed. As they approached the cafe, she spotted a person strolling nonchalantly, hands in his pockets. The man ducked in and out of the driveways as he moved toward them, eyes darting back and forth.

Flint slowed the vehicle. A hoodie covered his hair and was pulled down low over his forehead. With an upward tilt of his head, the light from a nearby lamppost caught his face.

“It’s Casey.” Flint thumped on the brakes and jumped out of the vehicle. She drew her gun and shouted. “Police. Stop. Hands in the air.”

The man paused for only a second before he dashed down Shark Alley and was engulfed in the gloom.

“Stop,” Flint screamed as she ran after the suspect.

Jarrett pulled out his weapon and sprinted past Flint in pursuit of the elusive Mr. Hoodie.

Flint reached the gaping hole that had swallowed up Jarrett. She stopped cold, her fear of the dark cementing her to the spot. Over the rushing footsteps and her own anxious heartbeat, she heard angry shouts erupt. And then, nothing. In the silence and still air, a scream rebounded off the brick walls, clear and urgent. An ominous feeling of dread surged through her paralysed body with that one wail of anguish.

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