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Back The Lying House Save as PDF
Chapters (103)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  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. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. Epilogue
  102. Acknowledgments and a Personal Note
  103. Excerpt

As he rolled his first morning load of garbage to the dock and positioned his bin to dump into the chute, he seethed at the fact he faced thirty years behind bars.

He had unyielding, aching needs and unfinished business with the Taylors. Loften’s problem so engrossed him that he failed to pay attention to his job, which registered when the bin slipped from his grasp into the compactor, crashing into it with a thud.

Staring at it lying five feet below, atop the small heap of rotting garbage with flies and wasps strafing it, he cursed. He looked around. He was alone but for the security cameras.

The bin had to be retrieved.

Grumbling, Loften lowered himself into the trash, forcing himself to breathe through his mouth to deal with the gag-inducing stench. The plastic bin was large but relatively light, and if he got his shoulder under it, he could heft it back up to the dock. The problem was traction: he was slipping on God knew what and the wasps were buzzing around him.

As he worked to get a better hold and grip, something furry with a tail scurried from the heap toward the far end. Loften leaped back to avoid a pair of big rats.

That’s when he noticed it.

The morning trash had been heaped at the front. The rear of the compactor, the end that extended through the wall to the outside, was still empty. A thin, fibrous curtain hung down from the far side, where a bar of light spilled into the compactor.

Stepping carefully around the stinking garbage, Loften moved to the curtain and pushed it back to discover a gap about eighteen inches wide and chest-high running horizontally across the locked steel doors. He peered through the gap and had a clear line of sight to an alley and saw traffic passing by a block away.

He couldn’t believe it.

A plan began taking shape, when suddenly he heard a noise near the chute. Fearing the compactor was about to be switched on, he scrambled back toward the dock before it was too late.

41

Home alone, Lisa struggled with work at her desk all morning but accomplished little.

Her concentration had been overtaken by her anxiety. Troubling thoughts about Jeff, Vida and Loften flew at her in clusters. Unable to focus, she’d stare blankly at her monitor, the window or nothing at all.

Jeff had been up all night. She never heard him come to bed, and he left so early for work in the morning she never saw him. What was he going to do about Vida? Lisa couldn’t stop worrying.

For lunch she managed a small salad, half a cup of yogurt, then tried to continue working, but it was hopeless. Her concern about Vida dominated every thought.