"Robb, J D - In Death 23 - Survivor in Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

as she eased by her parents' room, hoping she could stay--for once--under her mother's radar.
Nothing and no one stirred as she crept down the stairs.
But even when she got downstairs, she was mouse quiet. She still had to get by Inga, their
housekeeper, who had rooms right off the kitchen. Right off the target. Inga was mostly okay,
but she'd never let her get away with an Orange Fizzy in the middle of the night.
Rules is rules.
So she didn't turn on any lights, and snuck through the rooms, into the big kitchen like a thief. It
only added to the thrill. No Orange Fizzy would ever taste as frigid as this one, she thought.
She eased open the refrigerator. It occurred to her, suddenly, that maybe her mother counted
stuff like this. Maybe she kept a kind of tally of soft drinks and snack food.
But she was past the point of no return. If she had to pay a price for the prize, she'd worry
about paying it later.
With the goal in hand, she shuffled to the far end of the kitchen where she could keep an eye on
the door to Inga's rooms and duck behind the island counter if she had to.
In the shadows, she broke the seal on the tube, took the first forbidden sip.
It pleased her so much, she slipped onto the bench in what her mother called the breakfast area,
and prepared to enjoy every drop.
She was just settling in when she heard a noise and dived down to lie on the bench. From
beneath it, she saw a movement and thought: Busted!
But the shadow slipped along the far counter, to the door of Inga's room, and inside.
A man. Nixie had to slap a hand on her mouth to stifle a giggle. Inga had a boogie buddy! And
she was so old--had to be at least forty. It looked like Mr. and Mrs. Dyson weren't the only
ones having sex tonight.
Unable to resist, she left the Orange Fizzy on the bench and slid out. She just had to look, just
had to see. So she crept over to the open door, eased inside Inga's little parlor, and toward the
open bedroom door. She squatted down on all fours, poked her head in the opening.
Wait until she told Linnie! Linnie would be so jealous.
With her hand over her mouth again, her eyes bright with laughter, Nixie scooted, angled her
head.
And saw the man slit Inga's throat.
She saw the blood, a wild gush of it. Heard a horrible, gurgling grunt. Eyes glazed now, she
reared back, her breath hissing and hitching into her palm. Unable to move, she sat, her back
pressed to the wall and her heart booming inside her chest.
He came out, walked right by her, and out the open door.
Tears spilled out of her eyes, down her spread fingers. Every part of her shook as she crawled
over, using a chair as a shield, and reached up to the table for Inga's pocket link.
She hissed for emergency.
УHe's killed her, he's killed her. You have to come.Ф She whispered the words, ignoring the
questions the voice recited. УRight now. Come right now.Ф And gave the address.
She left the 'link on the floor, continued to crawl until she'd reached the narrow steps that led
from Inga's parlor to the second level.
She wanted her mommy.
She didn't run, didn't dare. She didn't stand. Her legs felt funny, empty, like the bones in them
had melted. She started to belly crawl across the hall, sobs stuck in her throat. And to her
horror, she saw the shadow--two shadows now. One went into her room, the other into
Coyle's.
She was whimpering when she dragged her body through her parents' bedroom doorway. She
heard a sound, a kind of thump, and pressed her face into the carpet while her stomach heaved.
She saw the shadows pass the doorway, saw them. Heard them. Though they moved as if that's
what they were. Only shadows.