"Deaver, Jeffery - Lincoln Rhyme Series 03 - The Empty Chair(2000)[v1]" - читать интересную книгу автора (Deaver Jeffrey)There's some empty food wrappers and water bottles. A roll of duct tape too. And guess
what? 1 see a map." "A map?" "Yeah. Looks to be of the area. Might show us where he's got Mary Beth. What do you think about that?" But Ed Schaeffer never found out his fellow deputy's reaction to this good piece of police work; the woman's screaming filled the woods and Jesse Corn's radio went silent. Lydia Johansson stumbled backward and screamed again as the boy leapt from the tall sedge and grabbed her arms with his pinching fingers. "Oh, Jesus Lord, please don't hurt me!" she begged. "Shut up," he raged in a whisper, looking around, jerking movements, malice in his eyes. He was tall and skinny, like most sixteen-year-olds in small Carolina towns, and very strong. His skin was red and welty -from a run-in with poison oak, it looked like - and he had a sloppy crew cut that looked like he'd done it himself. "I just brought flowers ... that's all! 1 didn't-" "Shhhh," he muttered. But his long, dirty nails dug into her skin painfully and Lydia gave another scream. his sour, unwashed odor. She twisted her head away. "You're hurting me!" she said in a wail. "Just shut up!" His voice snapped like ice-coated branches tapping and flecks of spit dotted her face. He shook her furiously as if she were a disobedient dog. One of his sneakers slipped off in the struggle but he paid no attention to the loss and pressed his hand over her mouth again until she stopped fighting. From the top of the hill Jesse Corn called, "Lydia? Where are you?" "Shhhhh," the boy warned again, eyes wide and crazy. "You scream and you'll get hurt bad. You understand? Do you understand?" He reached into his pocket and showed her a knife. She nodded. He pulled her toward the river. Oh, not there. Please, no, she thought to her guardian angel. Don't let him take me there. North of the Paquo ... Lydia glanced back and saw Jesse Corn standing by the roadside 100 yards away, hand |
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