Rest In Peace by Richie Tankersley Cusick Page A

whispered.
    â€œDo you remember the security code, Lucy?” he asked her again. “I need to get you inside.”
    Her head was beginning to clear. She realized they were on the front porch, and that she was shivering from head to toe. With sudden clarity, images of the blanket and burned jacket burst into her mind, and she immediately began to struggle.
    â€œHey, calm down,” Matt held her tighter. “I told you, everything’s okay—”
    â€œNo, those things in the car!”
    â€œWhat things?”
    â€œIn the car—the blanket, Byron’s jacket—you must have seen them—”
    â€œLucy, I didn’t see anything but you. What are you talking about?”
    â€œHe put them there! He must know where I live—how can he know that?”
    â€œSsh . . . Listen to me—”
    â€œWhy did you leave the car unlocked? Why didn’t you make sure no one was following you? You must have led him straight here!”
    â€œStop it, Lucy, you’re not making any sense.” The shake he gave her was gentle, but firm. “Whatever this is about, we’ll discuss it. I promise . But right now we need to go inside without setting off the alarm and looking like two half-wit burglars.”
    â€œBut I want the police to come! They need to get fingerprints and DNA—”
    â€œLucy. Tell me the code.”
    The tone of his voice got through to her at last. It took her several minutes, but she was finally able to recite the correct numbers in their proper sequence. Then Matt turned the key, stepped into the house, and—following Lucy’s garbled directions—disarmed the system.
    â€œWhere’s the couch?” Pausing at the foot of the stairs, he raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked for a place to set her down. “Couch, chair, or bed. Your choice.”
    But Lucy was babbling again. “The blanket? It was the one I took when I was trying to escape. The police will have to believe me now.”
    â€œWhere would you be the most comfortable?”
    â€œNo, no, I can walk.”
    â€œDon’t argue with me.”
    Seeing the determination on his face, Lucy pointed to a doorway. “The den’s through there. But you’ve got to call the police, Matt. He had Byron’s jacket, don’t you understand? The same one Byron was wearing when we crashed! How could he have Byron’s jacket? And I lost that blanket in the woods, so how did he find it? Why is he doing this to me?”
    â€œHush, Lucy.” Carefully Matt lowered her to the couch, then began unbuttoning her coat. “Take this off and wrap up in something warm.” He pulled the wool afghan from one end of the sofa and tucked it snugly around her. “I should probably take you to the emergency room. You’re half frozen.”
    â€œDon’t call a doctor—call the police ! Haven’t you heard a single word I’ve said?”
    â€œWhat about tea? Do you like tea?”
    Frustrated, Lucy grabbed his sleeve. “Listen to me. You’ve got to get that stuff from the car. I didn’t have any evidence before, but now I do, and if he’s out there right now watching us, the police might be able to catch him!”
    â€œIf who’s out there watching us?” Matt demanded, easing himself from her grip. But as Lucy grew more agitated, he knelt down in front of her and took both her hands in his. “Yes, okay, I’ll go out to the car. And if it’s necessary, I promise I’ll call the police. But first I’m going to fix you something hot to drink so we can get your blood flowing again.”
    â€œYou’re wasting time!”
    â€œTime? Well, speaking of time, just how long were you lying out there unconscious in the car?”
    â€œI don’t know. What time is it now?”
    Matt glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel, then double-checked his watch. “Your clock’s wrong. Mine says