Never See Them Again Read Online Free

insight. He didn’t like the path Rachael was heading down; it felt thorny and already beaten down by others who had ended up lost. He figured talking to Lelah, whom Rachael looked up to, and with whom she had been as close as sisters could be for most of their lives, would help.
    The ride, the food, and the conversation turned out to be overly emotional for George. He dropped Lelah back at home and took off alone on his Harley—“I was not feeling good . . . this whole Rachael thing”—and decided to go out and find Rachael and talk to her. He ended up not being able to locate Tiffany Rowell’s house (he’d been there only a few times, and the neighborhood, if you don’t know it, is akin to a labyrinth), but instead found a neighborhood bar, where he ordered a few beers, sat and listened to a band play loud music in front of him.
    Consequently George couldn’t hear his cell phone going off as details of what had happened at Tiffany Rowell’s house hit the airwaves and people started calling.
    â€œI’m glad I didn’t hear it,” George later said, looking back, “because the messages on my cell phone were horrifying.”
    George finished his little cooling-off period at the bar and headed home. As he pulled into his driveway, he noticed that his wife’s car was gone.
    Strange . Where has she run off to?
    His oldest daughter came running out of the house before George could get the kickstand out and the bike turned off. Lelah had a look of absolute fear; the color drained from her face.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” George said, dismounting.
    â€œDad! Dad,” Lelah screamed. “There’re four teenagers dead at Tiffany Rowell’s house! They know that two of them are Tiffany and this guy Marcus.”
    George’s stomach tightened. His heart raced.
    Rachael!
    George went into the house, grabbed his youngest daughter, just nine years old, told Lelah to get into the car. They were dropping the youngest off at a neighbor’s and heading over to Tiffany’s house.
    After dropping off her little sister, Lelah explained what she’d heard as George drove toward Tiffany’s, under Lelah’s direction.
    Lelah said many things, but all George could hear was: Four teens found dead .
    Four.
    Not two. Or three.
    But four.
    In a panic George pulled up. Saw all the vehicles. The police tape. That large group of people milling about in the street, in front of the house. Police officers roaming all over. He told Lelah to sit tight inside the car behind the yellow police tape. Wait until her mother arrived.
    â€œI’ll be right back.”
    George crossed the police line and started for the door heading into Tiffany’s house.
    â€œA big old cop” stopped him before he could walk in. “My name is George Koloroutis,” he said. “You can’t stop me, man, please. I think my little girl might be in there.”
    Tears.
    George was a big dude, with some serious bulk, and perhaps out of his mind by this point. All he could think about was Rachael inside that house needing his help. George had always been the protector in the family; the man who took care of everything. Suddenly he felt helpless and weak as gum.
    â€œMr. Koloroutis, please,” the cop said calmly. “Please don’t make me have to stop you from going into that house. I don’t want to have to do that.” There was something in the cop’s voice telling George he wasn’t kidding; he would do whatever he had to do to stop him. “If I have to do this, Mr. Koloroutis, other cops are going to run over here. We’re going to have to hold you down. Cuff you. And it’s going to be a miserable experience. Please just don’t go in there.”
    There were several reasons—all of them worthy—why police did not want George Koloroutis to go inside the house.
    George looked at him. “I understand. I just need to know if