Page 15 of Run for Her Life
“Sorry, what did you say about the hair?” Rodney said.
“The killer sent us a lock of her hair,” Zoe explained. “We’re clearly dealing with someone methodical, controlling, and straight-up evil.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. What color was the hair?”
“It was black and straight…” And then Zoe’s eyes shifted to Annabelle’s hair spread out on the table. With a gloved hand, she felt the strands between her fingertips. Brown and curly. “Did she color her hair?”
His tone was unsure. “Highly doubt it. This is her real hair.”
Zoe was startled. Could the killer have gotten her lock of hair before snatching her? At a time when she had colored her hair? Not plausible. Before she could sift through the possibilities, herphone buzzed. It was a message from Simon. When she read the words, her heart came to a racing halt.
S: Got back the results from the lab. The DNA from the hair and from Annabelle did not match.
Then who did the hair belong to?
NINE
Lisa twisted the rusty knob to turn on the shower. The hot water ejected from the showerhead like pellets striking her skin. It was probably too hot—she could feel the skin on her back turning red and angry. But she closed her eyes and absorbed the pain. This was nothing.
Months of injections and treatments had made her immune. She stared at the water pooling around her swollen feet. A lingering reminder of the ringer she had been through for nothing. The memory of getting another negative pregnancy test played on a loop in her tired brain. She wanted to cry but she had run out of tears as well. All that was left was bone-melting exhaustion.
“Hey, Lisa!” The door to the bathroom burst open and Jim, all beady eyes, thin mustache, and bushy hair, popped his head in. “Did we get any new packages? I didn’t see any in the hallway.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to check the email for the tracking information.” She wiped the glass wall fogged from the steam.
“I guess I can check that too. Damn it, I really wanted to try out that new console tonight.” Jim breezed in the washroom andbegan fixing his hair in the mirror. “Have been waiting for it for weeks.”
A lump formed in the base of her throat. “Don’t you have a job interview tomorrow?”
“Yeah, it will be fine. I’m overqualified for that one anyway.” He gave a careless shrug despite claiming to be overqualified for the two other job interviews he’d been rejected after.
“That guy had it out for me, Lisa. He was biased.”
“The commute would have killed me, so I didn’t give it my best shot.”
She searched his handsome face as he began to shave, remembering how butterflies had filled her stomach when she first met him in college. Years ago, she’d fallen in love with his boyish charm and the ease with which he floated through life. But ten years later, Jim was still floating. And Lisa had found herself unmoored and disenchanted.
Jim washed his face and wiped it with a towel, his eyes darting to Lisa. “What are you thinking?”
“Huh?” She blinked. “Nothing…”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I know you’re stressed about the email. Lisa, I… I don’t think this is worth it. Let’s not force it. Maybe it isn’t meant to be, you know? It just doesn’t seem worth it.” His face was pinched like this conversation was making him awkward. “Think about it.” With that he left.
She felt her body go cold despite the scalding hot water. She stepped out of the shower in a daze, wrapped a towel around her body, and waited for the anger to subside. But all she felt was numbness.
Her phone trilled. She unplugged it from the outlet by the sink and checked it. It was time to meet the mayor.
Annabelle Stevens had been murdered, buried, and exploited in a twisted game. It wasn’t the first tragedy to strike Pineview Falls and Lisa knew that it wouldn’t be the last.
Once upon a time, Dawn Harrington used to be a different woman. A young woman who chased vibrancy. Back in the day, she would find rooftops to soak in the skylines. She would find silhouettes and contours in city lights instead of the stars. She would look down to the streets and relish the feeling of people being small like ants. It was then she decided that she always wanted to feel that way—closer to the stars. She was always drowning in that hunger formore.
And now she was drowning in grief.
She pulled down the visor and looked at her eyes in the mirror. The corners were wrinkled and the icy blue irises somehow looked a faded powdery blue. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, glancing around at the empty street behind the gas station.
A knock came on the passenger side window, startling her.
She whirled her head and unlocked the door. Adam climbed inside, his frail body disappearing in a lumpy coat and a blotchy beard dotting his jaw. “Don’t you own a mirror? You look disheveled.”
