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Chapter 27. “I don’t believe it!” Melissa muttered, squinting against the darkness.

A STUPID THING | DANGEROUS PLANS | Chapter 18 | ANOTHER VICTIM | MELISSA’S TURN | MISSING | DAVE IS GUILTY AGAIN | AN INTRUDER | ANOTHER INTRUDER | THE REAL KILLER |


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  2. Chapter 1
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  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 1 Buried Hopes
  6. CHAPTER 1. A. A. Tkatchenko
  7. Chapter 1. The Fundamentals of the Constitutional System

 

“NOT LUKE”

“I don’t believe it!” Melissa muttered, squinting against the darkness.

She heard a car roar away, its tires squealing.

I saw Rachel, she told herself, the night air cold against her hot cheeks. I saw Rachel running across the yard.

But that’s impossible.

And whose car sped away? Did Rachel get into it? Rachel can’t drive.

And why would Rachel drive anyway? She lives right across the street.

Feeling confused and upset, Melissa moved away from the window. Her heart was pounding. She suddenly felt chilled all over.

Rachel? Running outdoors? By herself in the middle of the night?

As she pulled on her robe, Melissa realized that her parents were awake. “Melissa!” Her father’s heavy footsteps thundered in the hallway. “Melissa, are you all right?”

He poked his head into her room, the door swinging open, the yellow hall light revealing him in pajama bottoms, his hair disheveled, his expression worried. “Are you okay?” he asked, surprised to find her standing by her closet. “I heard a prowler. I called the police.”

“I—I heard it too,” Melissa told him. She started to tell him that she saw Rachel running across the yard. But he was already halfway down the stairs.

Melissa tied her robe and headed to the stairway, nearly colliding with her mother on the stairs. “Your father called the police,” she told Melissa, flashing a tense frown at her daughter.

They hurried down the stairs. The living room lights had been turned on. The hall and kitchen were also lit up. Mr. Davis had turned on all the lights in the house.

“The doors are locked,” he called to them, sounding bewildered. “No sign of a break-in.”

“Then what on earth—” Mrs. Davis started, following his voice to the kitchen.

Melissa’s father was peering out the kitchen window at the garage. “Everything looks normal out there,” he reported. “Garage door is closed.”

Shivering, Mrs. Davis wrapped her arms around herself. “Weird,” she muttered.

“I saw Rachel McClain outside,” Melissa finally managed to say.

Both her parents turned to stare at her, squinting in disbelief. “What did you just say?” Mr. Davis asked, scratching his head.

“I saw her. I saw Rachel. She was running across the yard,” Melissa insisted.

“But that’s impossible,” her mother said quickly, still hugging herself.

Mr. Davis stepped behind his wife and put an arm around her shoulders. “You must have been dreaming,” he told Melissa, staring hard at her.

“But I saw her!” Melissa said shrilly. “I heard a noise. A crash. I ran to the window, and—”

“But Rachel isn’t allowed out by herself,” Mrs. Davis said. “She can’t go out by herself.”

“What would Rachel be doing in our yard?” Mr. Davis added. He shook his head. “Come on, Melissa—”

Melissa angrily pounded her fist on the kitchen counter. “I’m not crazy!” she shouted. “I saw Rachel out there!”

They didn’t have any time to discuss it further. A loud knocking on the front door startled them all.

Melissa got to the front door first. “Who is it?” she called timidly.

“Police,” replied a deep voice on the other side of the door.

Melissa pulled the door open to reveal two solemn-faced police officers. She stared at them in the harsh porch light. One was heavy, bald, and paunchy with an enormous, lumpy nose that resembled a potato. His partner was young and blond.

Melissa pushed open the storm door. The two officers stepped past her into the hallway.

“I called you because—” Mr. Davis started, stepping between Melissa and her mother.

“When did you discover the body?” the older policeman interrupted.

“What?” Mr. Davis asked, terribly confused.

“When did you discover the body?” the policeman repeated patiently, in a low, steady voice.

“What body?” Mrs. Davis asked, as bewildered as her husband.

“The body of the teenage boy on your driveway,” the officer replied.

“No!” The scream burst from Melissa, more a shriek of horror than a word. “No! Not Luke! Please, don’t let it be Luke!”


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