Free The Killing Edge by Richard; Forrest Page A

insolent as hell.”
    â€œFrank was always a little insolent.”
    â€œOh, Will, come on. It’s not what you think.”
    Their eyes met for a long moment until she looked down at her plate.
    He ran his fingers gently across her hair, down the curve of her back and over her hips. They both trembled. She kissed him and he held her tightly against his body. She was ready, and she wanted him very much.
    The phone rang, but she wouldn’t answer.
    As he turned to reach for the phone on the night stand, she held her head against his chest.
    â€œNo,” she whispered and nibbled his ear.
    He picked it up, listened for a moment, and then abruptly sat up and spilled her back across the bed. “Jesus, no! Who was driving?… August. Keerist!” He slammed the phone back on the receiver and sprang out of bed.
    She watched him incredulously as he jammed his legs into pants and slipped into his shirt. “I think I’m going to cry.”
    â€œIf I had time, I’d cry with you. Raleigh’s escaped.”

Chapter Five
    â€œEscaped? That’s impossible.”
    â€œYou tell me.” He jammed his shirt into the waistband of his trousers and began a search for shoes. “We only have a holding cell here in Lantern City and were taking him to Murphysville where all prisoners wait until their hearings. The car skidded off the road and turned over, and the back door opened.”
    â€œThat could happen in this weather.”
    â€œWhen they didn’t arrive on time, Chief Herbert over there backtracked down the road and found the car. Two officers were unconscious, and Raleigh had taken the key to the cuffs.”
    â€œHe won’t get far in the snow.”
    Will found his shoes under the bed and slipped them on. “I know, but it makes us look like such jerks. A murder suspect yet. He doesn’t have money or valuables on him, and of course his house will have a police guard. He’ll follow the usual pattern, make for the highway to try and hitchhike out of state.”
    â€œYou’ll put out an APB?”
    â€œAlready done. The state has road blocks on the major arteries in the sector.” He leaned over and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and drew him back on the bed.
    â€œSounds like everything that can be done is done,” she whispered.
    He slipped out of her arms and stomped to the door. “I want that bastard before morning.”
    â€œWill.”
    He turned with his hand on the door knob. “Yes?”
    â€œDamn you.”
    â€œDon’t damn me. Damn Raleigh Bridger.”
    The slam of the apartment door jarred her as she sat disconsolately in the center of the bed. Drawing her knees under her chin, she stared through the doorway into the living room where empty plates sat unwashed on the dining table. Her fists beat a rapid staccato on her knees until she laughed. L.C. rolled off the bed, skipped into the bathroom and adjusted the shower.
    Toweling and throwing on a terrycloth robe, she cleared the table, stuffed dishes in the dishwasher and in minutes had the apartment straightened. It was still only 9:30.
    Sleep was a distant thing. She wanted to do something, and briefly considered going back to work in the shop. It would be chilly, top cold to handle tools until the boiler was turned up, and it would take at least an hour to warm the large room.
    She made a cup of coffee and curled up on the sofa with a book. It was impossible to concentrate. After she lost the plot for the third time, and had to flip back to the beginning of the chapter to read it again, she closed the book with a note of finality.
    The phone book was in the drawer of the night stand in the bedroom, and she found a listing under S. Devonshire, with an address indicating an old apartment building on the other side of town.
    Snow had stopped falling and the streets were plowed, but driving was still hazardous. The light turned red at the Forum Street