Free Inevitable by Tamara Hart Heiner Page B

while opening the front door with the other.
    I almost didn’t see the woman watching me from under the streetlight. My lip twisted and I glared at her. Then I slammed the front door shut and ran up the stairs, plowing straight into my room and onto the bed. Leaning across it, I fumbled for my sweet pea candle and the matches. The fragrant aroma reached my senses, flooding out the earlier feelings of despair.
    I closed my eyes and lay back on my bed, letting my mind give in to the nothingness.
    My eyes snapped open when my phone began to ring loudly on the dresser. How long had I been lying here? It felt like only a few minutes, but outside it was dark. I glanced at my watch, confirming that it had been nearly half an hour.
    The phone stopped for a moment and then started again, the display flashing. I grabbed it up and groaned. JT’s Bagels. I gritted my teeth and answered. “Hello?”
    “Jayne? This is Tom.”
    My manager. I pinched my nose. This was it. I was about to get fired. “Hi, Tom.”
    “Jayne, what happened? You just took off without saying a word. Where are you?”
    “I’m at home. I, uh...” I let out a shaky sigh. “I all of the sudden got really sick. I couldn’t think straight, I just had to go.”
    Silence on the other end. I wondered what Tom was thinking. Would he give me a second chance? Did I even want a second chance?
    “Jayne, you can’t leave without telling anyone. Take the evening off, be here tomorrow for your shift. People get sick, but if you ever take off like that again
    ” Tom paused and then sighed. “I’ll have to let you go.”
    I could hardly believe it. JT’s must be more desperate for workers than I’d realized. “Um, okay. Thanks, Tom. I won’t let it happen again.”
    I collapsed on my back, trying to decide if I was better or worse off than before. I pounded my pillow in frustration.
    The murders. I sat up, suddenly glad for something to focus on besides Aaron. I took the steps two at a time to the downstairs den, where the family computer sat at a desk. My parents told me I could have my own laptop—when I went to college. If I wanted one before then, I had to buy it. Fat chance of that happening, considering I never kept a job.
    Beth sat at the card table, headphones on while she worked on her homework. I took a deep breath and looked away. I couldn’t stand to See someone else today. Don’t think about her. Think about the serial killer.
    Even I thought it was a weird thing to comfort myself with.
    I pulled up a search engine and typed in, “Lacey Township serial killer.” Several different hits popped up, some from several years ago, others taking place in other parts of New Jersey or even New York. I ignored those and clicked on the one connected to the local paper. A message popped up.
    “Please enter your name and phone number to confirm your subscription to the Lacey-Barnegat Times.”
    We didn’t have a subscription. Heaving a sigh, I ran upstairs to get my check card. I didn’t have a lot of money in my checking account, but it would cover a newspaper subscription. I filled out the required information, lied about my age, and started my subscription. It wasn’t too bad, since I only wanted the e-version.
    Then I read each article slowly, absorbing the information.
    The first murder came as a shock to the community. Twenty-three year old college student Claire Eastman was found in an alley behind a dance club. She had been sexually assaulted before he slit her throat and threw her in the dumpster, where the body was discovered the next morning. Her black leather purse, which hadn’t been touched, quickly identified her. The article included a smiling photograph of a brunette in a tank top.
    I thought I was going to puke. I put my head in my hands. Just like Hannah, Claire had been at the prime of her life. So much in front of her. And then to have it taken from her in such an ugly, cruel way...I could only hope that she had also been numb to those