The Secret Friend Read Online Free Page A

fruit. She struggled to move away but she was caught against the seatbelt.
    ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ His voice trembled, and he started to cry. ‘I’m sorry.’
    She grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to yank it away, but Walter Smith’s grip was too strong. She could taste blood – her blood – on the back of her throat and she started to gag.
    He was crying harder now. ‘I’ll make it up to you, Hannah, I promise. I’m going to make you very happy.’
    Hannah slumped back against the seat, hearing the windshield wipers going back and forth, back and forth, the Virgin Mary’s mournful eyes looking at her with arms wide open, ready to comfort.

5
    Walter Smith popped the trunk. He unfastened Hannah’s seatbelt and then headed out into the wet, heavy snow, quickly making his way to the passenger’s side.
    Hannah was heavier than Emma and Judith, and considerably taller. Instead of picking Hannah up and cradling her in his arms, Walter gripped her under the armpits and dragged her to the back of the car. The blankets were already set up.
    Walter placed her in the trunk. He brushed the snow from her face and tucked a pillow under her head. Hannah’s nose was bleeding in a slow, steady trickle. He hoped it wasn’t broken.
    From his pocket he removed the baggie holding the tiny Ambien pills he ordered online from Mexico and wedged three of them down her throat. Hannah moaned, swallowed. Good. He moved her arms behind her back and handcuffed her wrists. Then he handcuffed her ankles.
    Walter stared down at Hannah. Her face was remarkably warm and open. Her face was what had attracted him. He had seen her waiting for the bus and Mary spoke to him, told him Hannah Givens was THE ONE and Mary was right, she was always right.
    Walter rolled Hannah onto her side so the blood wouldn’t trickle down her throat and make her sick. He’d have to stop and check on her at some point.
    Walter tucked a blanket under her chin. He kissed Hannah on the forehead, then shut the trunk and got back behind the wheel.
    The wet snow was coming down at a fast clip. Walter drove slowly, carefully, with both hands gripping the wheel. A lot of cops would be out tonight.
    As he drove, Walter kept glancing at the statue on the dashboard. Mary’s voice was clear in his head. His Blessed Mother told him not to worry.

6
    The dead woman lying on the autopsy table didn’t look like a woman any more – she didn’t look human, in fact, but more like one of those creatures from an old black-and-white horror movie, a frightful, angry thing that had clawed its way out from a grave. The teeth were bared, the lips and surrounding facial tissue and missing eyes picked away by postmortem fish feeding. The rest of the body was covered by a blue sheet. A white card with a case number was placed under her chin.
    The face was unrecognizable. Darby wondered if the woman was Judith Chen.
    A heavyset man from ID, the section of the lab that dealt exclusively with crime scene photography, took close-up pictures of the bloated face. Coop stood behind him, watching. The small white-tiled room reeked of disinfectant mixed with the overpowering metallic odour of the Boston Harbor.
    Darby had already taken her own set of pictures. As she waited, she reviewed what little she knew of the case, most of which came from newspapers.
    Two and a half months ago, on a Wednesday night during the first week of December, Judith Chen, a freshman at Boston’s Suffolk University, was studying for her chemistry midterm at the campus library. Five minutes shy of 10 p.m., Judith, dressed in pink nylon running pants, a pink sweatshirt and Nike sneakers, decided to call it a night. Somewhere between the library and the apartment she was renting in Natick, the nineteen-year-old chemistry major disappeared.
    It was now mid-February and the body lying on the table wore the same clothing.
    The ID man gave her the nod. Darby, dressed in scrubs, put on a surgical mask and a