It Takes a Killer Read Online Free Page B

started walking. 
    As she turned the corner of the alley Hannah found the street empty.  The Lux Hotel was on the edge of town, closer to the lake, but it was usually filled with people on a night like this.  It was only a fifteen minute walk to the lake, and a twenty minute walk to Stormi’s, yet nobody was there.  She looked back at the alley and knew exactly why.  She felt stupid for thinking things would return to normal in a single week.  Mariana wasn’t even thinking of returning to work yet, and Hannah’s mother wouldn’t return her calls.
    Hannah started walking again, if only to get off of her feet and away from the Lux.  Crickets chipped in the night, happily making noise around her without gawking.  Hannah rolled her eyes at herself…since when had crickets made her happy?
    Something jabbed into her back, a small cylindrical piece of metal.  “Gimme the purse.”
    Hannah froze for a moment.  The man jabbed what she assumed was a gun harder into her back.  She inched forward from the pressure when his hand slammed down on her shoulder, grabbing at her purse strap.  As he yanked it off she turned, completely in shock that she was getting mugged again .  What was happening to this town?
    In the few seconds between turning to her assailant Hannah caught a glimpse of a dark baseball cap and hoodie, and a black bandana tied around his nose and mouth.  She didn’t think she should recognize anyone from such a small amount of their face showing, but she knew the scar that crossed over his left temple.  And as the Pastor’s son, her childhood friend, recognized her his eyes widened.  “Shit!” he shouted.
    Bart lifted his right hand, the one that held a small silver gun, and smacked Hannah in the face.  The butt of the gun struck her cheekbone and nose, and she went down easily, already seeing stars.  She fell onto her back and managed to keep her head from cracking open on the sidewalk, the sounds of fast footsteps rushing away from her.  Blood gushed from an open cut on her face as well as from her nose, filtering into her mouth.  The metallic taste was sickeningly familiar.
    Hannah sat on the ground and tried not to throw up.  It wasn’t that someone she knew had just attacked her, or even that she had been attacked twice in the same week, in the same place, that made her sick.  It was the strange sense of anger coursing through her that made her sick. 
    Of course she would feel angry at this.  She was covered in her own blood, attacked by someone she should have been able to trust, and now she was in immeasurable pain.  Her head throbbed with each beat of her heart, and she didn’t even have a phone to call for help.
    Bart hadn’t hit her as hard as he could have, but he could have just run away, too.  He’d taken karate since he was a kid, and he was on the track team in high school; he could have easily escaped.  So why did he resort to hitting her?  Hannah knew the answer, but refused to admit it.
    Hannah grabbed hold of the nearby bench and hauled herself to her feet.  They still hurt even though her mind had something else to focus on, and she hobbled her way, blurry eyed and desperate, back to the hotel.  She debated going through the front door, but the thought of all eyes being on her again made her think otherwise.  Instead she stepped down the alley and knocked her fist against the door to the kitchen, oddly hopeful that Dane would answer.  She wasn’t sure anyone would even hear her frail knocks, let alone open the door.  But after another knock the door opened, and someone jumped back.
    Stephan, the busboy.  Hannah thought she saw him blinking at her, but it was too hard to tell.  Her vision was still dotted with stars.  When Stephan just watched her she ordered, “Call an ambulance already!”  Her voice was nasally and uneven.  Stephan jumped into action, the only thing her ever seemed to do.
    One of the chefs came to Hannah’s aide, and she felt guilty