I Know Lucy (A Fugitive #1)(8)

“You just killed my wife! I’m not giving you anything!”

Crouching down, the man grabbed Jack by the hair and jerked his head back. His pale eyes gleamed. “I know you have a daughter, too. She’s here, isn’t she?”

“No,” her father croaked.

“Don’t lie to me, Jack. I’m gonna find her and I’m gonna make her suffer until you tell me everything I want to know.”

“She’s not here.”

“Lucy?” The man shouted. “Lucy, honey, come into the kitchen.”

Lucy’s shoulders tensed, her muscles quivering as she stayed as still as possible behind the door.

“Come out, come out, where ever you are?” He sing-songed.

“She’s not here! And even if I did give you what you want, you can’t access it without me.”

“What do you mean?” Pale eyes narrowed in on Lucy’s father.

“You need me to gain access to those files.”

“You’ve put some bullshit encryption on them, haven’t you?”

Lucy waited for some kind of response, but her father wouldn’t budge.

“Damn it, Jack, you’re making my life hard today.”

Standing tall, he hauled Lucy’s father up and slammed him against the kitchen wall.

“Well, let me just go find Lucy and then we’ll head to your office and see if we can’t gain access to those files, okay?” Removing a pair of handcuffs, he moved to wrap them around Jack’s wrists when the beaten man suddenly pushed back, catching the intruder off guard.

They stumbled back together, crunching into the kitchen counter. Spinning in a rage, Jack lunged at his wife’s killer, wrestling for control of the gun. The man grunted, kicking at Jack’s legs. He fell with a crunch, but wouldn’t release the gun, pulling the man down with him.

Rolling across the floor, they continued to wrestle for control when suddenly the gun went off once more. Lucy flinched, going statue still as she waited for the winner to arise.

It wasn’t Jack Tate.

The attacker stood, his shirt now stained with another man’s blood.

Lucy covered her mouth, trying to muffle the sound of her rapid breathing.

The man stared down at the lifeless forms on the kitchen floor and swore.

Kicking Jack’s dead body, he cursed again.

“Lucy! Where are you!” His thundering voice ripped the frozen fear from Lucy’s belly, zapping her into action.

A jolt shot through her muscles. She scurried down the stairs, slipping on the last few and tumbling onto the hard concrete floor.

“Lucy! You can’t hide from me!”

Ignoring the pain, she scrambled to her feet and jumped onto the chest freezer. The terror pulsing through her system outweighed her spider phobia and she placed her hands on the window, pushing it with a grunt.

“Come on,” she whimpered. “Please open.”

“Lu-cy! Where are you?”

She whipped her head back as she heard a door creak open, but it wasn’t the basement. She listened to the creaking floorboards above. He was in the living room. She froze still, worried he’d hear her or see her scampering out of the window, if she could get the damn thing open!

Finally the footsteps moved out of the living area and sounded as though they were headed for the stairwell leading up to her room. With rapid breaths she turned back to the window and pushed with every ounce of strength she possessed. It eased open with a groan. She shunted it a couple more times until it was wide enough for her to wiggle through.

Pulling herself up was hard work and she was astounded that she had the strength to do it. Her fingertips felt like they were bleeding as she clung to the rough concrete and ran her feet up the wall. Slithering through the small opening, she clutched at the grass of their lawn, pulling and clawing until she was out.

She scrambled behind the bush at the corner of the house.

A light flicked on upstairs, illuminating the front lawn. He was checking her bedroom.

She stayed crouched in the shadows, trying to focus on the simple act of breathing and not let her mind go wild. Insanity was pushing its way in, trying to paralyze her. She couldn’t let it. Her parents were dead. Dead! And now their killer wanted her too.

Her bedroom light flicked off. The lawn around her fell into darkness and Lucy did the only thing she could.

She ran.

She had no idea where she was supposed to go. If that man knew her name and all about her family then he probably knew her friends too. She instinctively knew to stay clear of Maria’s house. She had no other family and there was no way she was endangering any of their family friends.

It had always been the three of them. When two only children get married and have only one child, once their parents die, that’s it. And that was the case with the little Tate family. They were it.

Except now only Lucy remained.

Sobs worked their way out of her as she propelled her body down the dark street. She couldn’t bang on anyone’s door asking for assistance. Her parents had just been murdered by someone powerful. An officer of the law! That’s what he’d called himself!

Worse still, he was crooked and she was screwed.

As her feet pounded the pavement, ducking into the shadows at any opportunity, Lucy knew one thing. She was on her own. And if she was going to survive at all, she needed to keep running.