Peak Road - A Short Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries Book 10) Read Online Free

time interested me. It was possible that the killer had left. Maybe he had been to prison or had moved then recently moved back… or he’d simply had enough self-control to fight off his fantasy for twenty years before engaging in it again.
    I couldn’t go. Whenever I worked cases like that, they took a piece of me. And I didn’t know how many pieces I had left.
    Julie came jogging up from the opposite direction, wearing a spandex top. She stopped in front of me, and Hanny jumped on her. They started playing, and it brought a grin to my face. She came over to me, taking out her earbuds.
    “Something happen?” she asked.
    “No. Why?”
    “You look sad.”
    I shrugged. “Just a case I’ve been thinking about.”
    “What case?”
    This was the part of the job I didn’t like—the part where I wanted to discuss it with someone else but knew I couldn’t. If I told her the things I had seen and was thinking about, it would change the way she saw the world. It had happened with my ex-wife, my fiancée, and even my children.
    “Nothing worth mentioning.”
    She hesitated. “Jon, come over for dinner tonight.”
    Part of me wanted nothing more than to go over to her house and begin what I knew would turn into something more. She was kind, attractive, and compassionate. She might even have understood the job in a way Melissa never could. But another part of me thought I didn’t belong there. I didn’t belong with anyone else.
    “I’ll take a raincheck.”
    She exhaled and placed her hand on my chest. “There are only so many rainchecks.”
    I watched her jog away. Hanny began running after her, but his leash pulled taut and yanked him back. I turned toward the ocean, staring at the waves as he barked at her, thinking himself left behind.
     
     
    That evening, after a dinner of beans and rice, I sat on the patio and sipped herbal tea. Black and green teas were forbidden by the Mormon faith, but herbs, if used appropriately, were encouraged. The faith also promoted vegetarianism, something I’d been trying out over the past months and had been enjoying. I was losing weight, and my migraines, which had once been frequent, were less prominent.
    Beside me on the patio side table was the picture of the Noels. I picked it up and stared at it. The mother’s hand rested lightly on the child’s shoulder, and the father’s arm was wrapped around her. I saw something then: the other children the couple would never have. I saw them on either side of the parents as clearly as if they were there. I had to put the photo down and stare out over the ocean.
    Just past my neighbor’s house, people were running. It was dark, but the moon and the setting sun provided enough illumination. A few tourists were standing on the beach, staring at the ocean in wonder. The water held that wonder for me, too, and every time I saw it was like the first time.
    A child broke away from the crowd. He sprinted for the water, and a woman yelled after him. She caught up with him halfway down the beach and lifted him in the air, tickling him and feigning anger as he laughed uproariously. Watching them head back to the rest of the crowd, I grinned.
    I picked up the photo again, my guts in tight knots that made me want to throw up. I swallowed then pulled my phone out of my pocket, still staring at the photo. I texted Mickey Parsons.
    Get another ticket. I’m coming .
    A moment later, he texted back, I bought one for you yesterday. See you in the morning .
    I took in a deep breath and held it a moment, feeling my heart thump against my ribs, thirsty for oxygen. I held my breath for as long as I could then let it out in a slow hiss before I put the photo down and stood up.
    The mother on the beach was still holding her son. They watched the waves together, and she pointed to the moon. He tilted his head up and stared at it. I went inside the house and left the patio doors open so I could hear the waves while I slept.

 
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