BooksBarbecue
Back Season of Fear
Chapters (67)
  1. Contents
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONETHE EXTREMES
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. PART TWOSOMETHING BAD
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. PART THREECHAYLA
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. PART FOURHIT AND RUN
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. EPILOGUE
  67. AUTHOR’S NOTE

The soft bed at Diane Fairmont’s house. Dr Smeltz in the bedroom. ‘You’re lucky I was here, young lady. You are very sick, but I’m going to make you better. Okay?’

She removed a page from the doctor’s notes. His handwriting was awful. Fever at 104. Taking immediate steps to bring temperature down. Delirium. Girl keeps repeating: Why is there so much blood?

Peach blinked and read that sentence again.

Girl keeps repeating: Why is there so much blood?

She heard a voice in her head, but it was her own voice.

‘What are you doing?’

‘What’s happening? I’m scared.’

‘Why is there so much blood?’

Peach snapped the file shut. She stared at her hands and saw that they were trembling like leaves afraid to fall. She put the file back on the table in front of her, and she never wanted to open it again, never wanted to see it again. You already know the truth.

She closed her eyes. The thump of the storm became a thumping inside her head, pressing on the walls of her skull. She felt herself go somewhere else, somewhere long ago and far away. It was night. She was on a road, the world spinning. And then her brain, sounding like the kindly voice of Dr Smeltz, interrupted and pulled her back: Don’t you go there, young lady.

Peach thought about Justin in the library at Lake Wales. She imagined him at the reception desk, smiling, being charming, asking the librarian to find a local address for Dr Smeltz. Before that, he’d spent hours among the microfiche carrels, copying pages from the newspapers ten years ago. She saw a stack of pages he’d left for her. Articles he’d copied from the microfiche.

Those pages looked scary to her now. She didn’t want to see them, but she picked them up anyway. Most of the copies were from newspapers printed the day after Labor Day, featuring ugly black headlines about the murders. But not all. As she dug through the pages, she saw that Justin had gone further back, to the weekend when things began to go bad. When everything was different. When nobody was the same.

She saw an article about a political fundraiser in Tampa.

‘Oh, Lyle, can I go, too? I want to see the city! And the zoo! Please please please please please.’

She remembered Lyle: stressed, angry, driving her and Deacon in the Mercedes to Tampa. Another argument. Deacon sulked the whole ride. He didn’t want to go, not with his twelve-year-old sister, not as a babysitter. Lyle left them alone in the city; he had things to do, important people to talk to. She and Deacon went to Busch Gardens. She took rides; he smoked funny-smelling cigarettes and said not to tell Lyle about it.

On one of the rides, she noticed that her throat had begun to hurt.