Page 116 of Lights Out

Aly was quiet for so long that I thought my earbud must have cut out.

“Aly?”

Her voice came through so low that I barely heard her. “I think someone just pulled into the driveway.”

I clicked my flashlight off, fear and adrenaline flooding my veins. “Can you check?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m trying to get to the front of the house, but the snow is loud, and I don’t want them to hear me crunching toward them.”

“Hang on. I think this room might overlook part of the driveway.”

I slunk toward the window and leaned forward just enough to see outside, and –fuck!– there was a car right below me.

“Stay where you are,” I told Aly. “Someone’s here.”

“Get out!” she hiss-whispered.

“Way ahead of you,” I said, racing back to the office. “I just have to wipe you from Brad’s computer.”

“No, Josh. You have to leave. What if they catch you?”

“They won’t,” I told her. “Did Junior text your burner about his people spotting cops?”

“No, but they could be in an unmarked car, or it could be one of Brad’s friends or family members. Josh, getout.”

“I will as soon as I’m done. I’ll go out the window if I have to.”

I really didn’t want to go out the window, but as I skidded around Brad’s desk and saw justhowmuch of Aly I’d have to erase from his search history, I realized it might come down to that.

Hoping to buy myself some time, I shut and locked the office door before starting to wipe the browser Brad used to look for her. He had two hidden ones, and a quick glance revealed that there was more than enough on there to damn him in the eyes of the police, so I left them intact and wiped the other. He also had an encrypted hard drive, so I immediately unencrypted it and ran my search software on that, too. There was no trace of Aly on it, and I didn’t bother looking further into what it contained; I was short on time and figured whatever was on there would probably scar me. I’d already been scarred enough for one lifetime, thank you very much.

“Josh?” Aly whispered. “What’s going on?”

“Shh,” I said, straining my ears. “I think I hear someone coming.”

Her only response was a low, panicked noise. I was right there with her. Footsteps echoed in the hallway as I performed one last-ditch diagnostic test, looking for Aly anywhere I might have missed her.

Come on, come on,I begged as the footsteps drew nearer. The progress bar seemed to slow to a crawl as the doorknob jiggled. Whoever was out there must have beelined straight to this office once they got inside the house. Were they after the same thing we were – Brad’s computer? If so, why? And what would they do with it if they got their hands on it?

“It’s locked,” a low male voice rumbled. “I’m kicking it down.”

Shit, shit, shit.

The voice that answered him was feminine. “Don’t. It will look too suspicious when the search warrant gets executed. I think he keeps a key in his nightstand.”

The man made an angry sound. “If he fled the country, I’m disowning him this time, Vivian. I swear, I’ll do it.”

The vice around my heart slackened. Were Brad’s parents on the other side of the door? I vaguely remembered his mom’sname beginning with a V, and talk of disowning could only come from someone with the power to do it, like his father.

“While I’m at it,” the man said. “I’m firing the housekeeper, too. It smells like the trash hasn’t been taken out in weeks.”

Was it weird that I took Brad’s parents not recognizing the smell of rotting corpses as a good sign?

The sound of their retreat was such a relief that I nearly collapsed, but I fought through it and, trusting my instincts, plugged another thumb drive into Brad’s computer and started making a copy of his machine, hard drives, search histories, and all. If his parents planned to hide the evidence of his crimes by destroying his computer, I’d find some way to get the backup files to the cops without getting caught.

The downside was that it would take several minutes. I grabbed a chair and braced it beneath the door handle like I’d seen Aly do all those nights before. For good measure, I found a nearby candelabra with a wide base and quietly wedged it against the bottom of the door like a jamb. At least all the antiques in Brad’s English gentleman’s office were good for something.

A peek at the computer screen told me I still needed to stall for time, so when I heard footsteps reapproach the door, I sidled over to it and grabbed the lock from my side, praying my finger strength was up to the job.

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