Cold Fear Read Online Free Page B

Billy slouched, leaning on the bars. His expression was pained. “I thought you’d-a heard something by now.”
    “Thanks, man.” Ferris twisted his lips. He had brought this day on himself. He’d confessed too much before his lawyer had turned up. Bragging like a child before he’d gotten a signed deal. The woman in the trunk wasn’t even cold when he’d been pulled over for a lousy broken taillight, which he could have talked his way out of if he hadn’t been high as a kite. No, the cops had caught him fair and square, and he’d sung like a fucking canary.
    But he wasn’t planning on dying yet.
    Living on Death Row was a miserable existence. Even those who deserved to die didn’t deserve to be tortured this way. He’d treated his victims better than the state treated inmates. Sure they begged and screamed for a few hours, but after that he’d put his victims out of their misery fast. He might have delivered cruel and unusual punishment, but it had been swift, unlike the justice system.
    Justice?
    This was justice ?
    He looked around the unit. Vets suffering PTSD. Men who’d been little more than children when committing crimes. Goaded into it by bad influences and life circumstances. All of them victims in their own right. Men like Billy who barely knew right from wrong and didn’t stand a chance if you added drugs or alcohol into the mix.
    Death penalty laws were flawed in every which way—the cost, the fact it wasn’t a deterrent, the fact innocent men were still being exonerated from Death Rows across the country as old evidence was reexamined.
    No.
    It was a stupid system. And Ferris detested stupid.
    He’d never claimed he was innocent, and he had no chance of pleading a low IQ because last time he’d tested he’d measured one-forty. But he didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in this miserable hellhole. “Pray for me, Billy.”
    The younger man nodded furiously. “We had one miracle this year. I can pray for another.”
    Ferris grinned. He’d always been faintly amused by the camaraderie of the men inside this unit and yet he felt it too. Ferris felt like he was accepted for who he truly was, not for whom people expected him to be.
    That was a gift. He’d had it once before, and he was hoping the power of that relationship held true now.
    One of the guards entered the cellblock, probably to take someone out for their hour of fresh air and exercise. Ferris sneered. From one cage to another, and yet every one of them looked forward to getting out of their damned cells. He took a step back and heard a crunch, looked down at the black and green smear of dead cockroach on the concrete floor. Dammit.
    He bent over and used a tissue to wipe up the mess. Then he tipped the jar and pulled out another roach. The game was just starting.

Chapter Three
    A LIGHTHOUSE PERCHED on the headland, sea oats whipping the air at its base. White sand met the gunmetal sea with a serrated edge of angry surf. A wooden fence ran parallel to the road, theoretically keeping people out but doing a piss-poor job of it. Frazer easily climbed over the obstacle. This area was cordoned off because National Parks Service, in conjunction with Department of Natural Resources, were trying to stabilize the area with mitigation strategies, but considering they were up against the Atlantic Ocean, they had their work cut out for them.
    A bit like trying to stem the tide of evil that crept through humanity with only a few dedicated law enforcement professionals.
    A cheery thought.
    Frazer took in the barren landscape of this remote barrier island as he climbed the dunes to the crime scene. He’d taken a commercial flight to Norfolk and managed to get a chopper to Elizabeth City and hired a car from there. It was getting late now. Less than a couple of hours left until sunset.
    He topped the ridge and scanned the area. It was the perfect location for those who needed privacy to feed a twisted