Read Blood Trails for Free Online Page A

tell your mother or I’ll make you sorry.”
    Holly woke abruptly, then sat up in bed, her heart pounding wildly against her rib cage as she swept the room with a frantic gaze, making sure she was still alone. A glance at the clock told her it was still hours before dawn. Even worse, she’d fallen asleep in her traveling clothes. With a groan, she rolled out of bed, then headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later she came out, stripped off her clothes, then crawled between the sheets and once again closed her eyes.
    “Please, God, take away all the bad thoughts and just let me rest.”
    It was a simple prayer. She wasn’t asking too much and hoped it was heard. Within minutes she was asleep, and when she woke again, sunlight was coming through a gap in the curtains. She rolled over onto her back, saw the bouquet of red roses and smiled.
    “Only a phone call away,” she said, then threw back the covers and headed for the shower.
    Within the hour she had dressed, gathered up her journal and maps, and headed for the elevator. As soon as she got herself some breakfast, she would be ready to face the day.
    A return trip to Annie’s Kitchen, and an order of coffee and waffles later, Holly read as she ate, scanning her journal for clues as to where to go first.
    She had the old home address and phone number that her mother had given Andrew. Out of curiosity, she’d tried the phone number almost immediately from back at the ranch and gotten a “not in service” message, which hadn’t been a surprise. She’d checked the St. Louis phone book for a listing for Harold Mackey and come up short. She’d also researched the city of St. Louis and learned that the address of her childhood home was in a part of St. Louis known as The Hill, mostly populated by a large contingent of people who were of Italian descent.
    She couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she was also of Italian descent, or if it were simply coincidence that they’d lived in the area. She was anxious to find the address, and even more anxious to know if she would recognize it. It was on her list as the first place to visit today.
    After talking to the concierge, she had a general idea of how to get where she wanted to go. It wasn’t until she went outside to retrieve her car that she realized it looked like it was going to rain. That wasn’t good news, but it didn’t deter her. She’d been wet before.
    She retrieved her car, and then, armed with her map, drove away from the hotel. She had a brief moment of panic as she pulled out into traffic, as if by leaving the hotel she had willingly crossed over into the danger zone, but the notion soon passed.
    When the first drops of rain began to hit the windshield she turned on the wipers, then tapped the brakes, slowing down enough to compensate for slippery streets. She was headed for the high ground south of Forest Park. According to Wikipedia, the official boundaries of The Hill were Manchester Avenue on the north, Columbia and Southwest Avenues on the south, South Kingshighway Boulevard on the east, and Hampton Avenue on the west. It wasn’t until she crossed the boulevard that she felt as if she were finally making progress. When she stopped for a red light, she checked her map again just to make sure she was going in the right direction.
    A loud clap of thunder sounded just as the light turned green. Hoping it wasn’t a portent of things to come, she took a deep breath and accelerated through the intersection. The car behind her wasn’t as fortunate. Halfway through the light it was suddenly T-boned by a pickup truck. Even though she was out of danger, she screamed. The shock of seeing the car spinning out of control, then being hit again by a second car, sent her into a panic. She pulled into a parking lot and stopped. Shaking too hard to drive, she said a quick prayer of thanksgiving that she was still in one piece as the sirens of the approaching rescue vehicles grew louder.
    She turned off the