Liar Liar - James Patterson Page 0,53

only sound in his ears the rushing of his own breath. He knew he was gasping, panting loudly, but couldn’t stop the sound. Images he wasn’t sure he’d even really seen were flashing before his eyes, as detailed and colorful as photographs.

Matted hair. Strips of wet duct tape. A handprint on a wall.

A group of three men in tactical suits rushed up to them in the lush garden.

“Detective, I’ve got men north, west, and east,” an officer said. “I’ll send this team south.”

“No, send these men west,” Vada said. “I’ve just heard a callout on the command line that Regan’s been sighted near the end of the street.”

The officer nodded and the men fled. Whitt found he was grabbing Vada’s arm, something to hold on to as terror rushed through him in waves.

“I didn’t hear any callout.” He tugged at the radio on his belt. “Are we on the same frequency?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Vada peeled his hand from her arm. “Stay here. Take charge of the crime scene. I’ll do a quick sweep south and be back in a flash.”

Before he could answer, she was gone, her absence leaving him cold, shaken. He caught a glimpse of her, gun drawn, as she disappeared through the gate and into the forest at the southern end of the property.

Chapter 65

IT WAS TIME TO RUN.

I’d stayed as long as I could, crouched behind Eloise and Gary Jansen’s house, watching the patrol-car lights on the trees. I’d called the local police as soon as Regan gave me the address, not knowing if there was a chance the couple might still be alive. I’d arrived just minutes before the first officers, hoping to catch Regan, but finding only my dead foster parents. As crews of tactical officers headed toward me, blind to my presence, I turned and ran through the yard, through the gate.

I imagined myself running from what I had seen, but as I pushed on, the tears forced their way up from my chest, into my throat. I sobbed once, giving myself just a second to surrender to the pain. Then the fury came, hot and comforting as it always was, rushing like fire through my veins. I glanced up and saw a helicopter tracking west. Curtains were twitching and front doors were opening. A neighborhood responding to Regan’s horror.

Eloise and Gary had fostered me when I was a teenager. I had almost no memory of my time there, meaning I’d probably been in their care only a couple of months. The address hadn’t rung a bell, but the extensive garden, full of wet flowers and flat, sprawling trees, had. I remembered Eloise had put the most effort into trying to crack my armor. She’d started predictably, with baked treats. Invitations to have “girl” chats. New clothes. The couple had been fostering a pair of toddlers at the time they had me. I had spent much of my time in the garden, brooding in the shade of one of the trees, a book in my lap that I only lifted as a shield when Eloise approached me.

I ran through the forest now and turned left down a wide dirt track cutting through the trees. I was breathless, unable to stop a furious growling coming from between my teeth, tears streaming down my face. The blood rushing through my head was pounding so hard that when I slowed and searched my pockets for the keys to the bike, I didn’t even hear her approaching. I went to the bike, hidden behind a huge eucalypt trunk, and brought the keys out of my pocket.

“Harry.”

I jumped at the voice, turned, and saw a red-haired woman standing at the roadside, seemingly as puffed as I was. I’d seen the woman through the back windows of the house, sweeping the crime scene with her gun. Whitt’s new partner. She must have spotted me as I turned and ran off into the woods.

She didn’t say another word. As I turned to flee, she raised the gun and fired.

Chapter 66

THE FIRST SHOT whizzed over my shoulder, the muzzle flash lighting up the trees around us. She was not experienced with the weapon. The gun had kicked and she had to adjust her grip on it, her fingers sliding, probably with sweat from the run. I turned and saw she was aiming right at my chest. I fell, scrambled, the keys falling from my hand. I got up and ran. The second shot knocked my right leg out from under