God knows, I’m no expert on relationships, but I do know when something’s good. And this thing we’ve created between us is precious and rare. I only hope it’s not fleeting, because for the first time in my adult life, I’ve given someone the power to hurt me.
Linda CastilloTag: mystery-suspense missing-persons amish-fiction
I’ve known a lot of cops like him over the years. Veterans, usually. Older. They have experience, but they lack the humanity that would otherwise define them as good cops. The more they see, the less they feel. The less they care. They become cynical and bitter and apathetic. They give all cops a bad rap.
Linda CastilloHe was as fucked up as a man could be and still be walking around.
Linda CastilloAn ordinary home about to be shattered. I’d rather cut off my hand than look into Belinda Horner’s eyes and ask her to identify a body I’m certain is her daughter. But this is my job, and I don’t have a choice.
Linda CastilloThose memories press into me like rude, insistent fingers as I walk toward the back door.
Linda CastilloYeah, well, I have my .38 to back me up in case he mistakes me for the weaker sex.
Linda CastilloThey trudged through a deep snowdrift. Then, as if blocked by some invisible force field, they stopped. John had seen a lot of crime scenes in the years he’d been a cop. He’d seen death from natural causes and murders so bloody and horrific that even veteran cops dropped to their knees and vomited. He’d seen the neat and brutal execution-style murders common to drug dealers anxious to make their mark. He’d seen innocent children cut down in the crossfire of gangland wars. He’d seen babies murdered and dumped like trash. None of that prepared him for the sight that accosted him now.
Linda CastilloThat I feel the need to defend myself shames me. I did what I had to do that day to save my life. But ingrained beliefs are difficult to exorcise no matter how valiant the attempt. I’ve always considered myself an enlightened woman. But I was raised Amish and some of those old values will always be a part of me.
Linda CastilloStanding at the bar, he watched the bartender pour another shot. He downed it in a single gulp. The alcohol scalded his oesophagus and landed like a fireball in his belly. He’d never developed a taste for even the top-shelf whiskies, but this wasn’t about pleasure. It was about getting through another day without blowing his brains out....
He knew mixing prescription drugs with alcohol was stupid and pathetic and that some day Fate would make him pay. Sooner or later, she always got her due. But he didn’t think that cruel bitch could do anything worse than what she’d already done. In some sick way, it was a comforting thought.
He didn’t know why he was running away. Maybe because being close to someone took a hell of a lot more guts than being alone.
Linda CastilloPagina 1 di 2.
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