Page 1 of Let Her Run

PROLOGUE

Gary walked up to the small house, which looked more like something out of a cliché home magazine for suburban moms than anything else. The pristine green grass of the garden was lined with colorful flowers, and the outdoor patio and seating area was perfectly arranged for a family gathering. Nice and all, but the garden gnomes and their glossy eyes creeped him out.

He'd heard the lady who lived here was really uptight. His buddy, a roofer named Andrew, had done a job here last year, and apparently the woman had called his boss to complain about the banging on her roof, even though she'd contracted them to come. Apparently, she'd been expecting a quiet roofing.

Now, Gary was here to do some plumbing. When he'd told Andrew the name of his customer--Sharon French--Andrew had cackled and told him the story.

He looked down at his overalls and messy work clothes and wondered if she'd complain to his boss that he was too unsightly to be seen in her house. Gary was already in hot water at work for being late all the time, and a customer complaint was the last thing he needed. He should've passed the job to one of his coworkers.

But he was here, so he figured he might as well get it over with and meet the woman. She couldn't be that bad--right?

Gary knocked on the door, and he could hear it creak open from inside. He almost expected to find himself face-to-face with a grimacing woman, ready to scream at him for daring to enter her home uninvited, but instead, he found himself in the entryway of a surprisingly warm home. The walls were painted in soft hues of blue and green, and the wooden floor was polished to a shine. A vase of freshly cut flowers sat atop an antique side table, adding a pop of color and life to the room. Light streamed through two large windows that overlooked the garden outside, giving everything a sunny glow.

"Hello?" he called out. "Ma'am? Sharon?"

No answer.

"Ms. French?" he called out again. "This is Gary Swanson, the plumber. The door opened when I knocked."

Still, no response.

A bad feeling churned inside Gary. He told himself to just turn back. Obviously, she'd accidentally left her door open. It didn't mean he could just walk in.

He checked his watch. Ten a.m. The day was already slipping away, and he had another job later too. He couldn't just leave.

"Hello, Ms. French?" he called in again. "Is anyone home?"

Still, no response.

Maybe she was out. Or in the backyard. There was a car in the driveway, and he was told someone would be home to let him in. He wasn't late, either--they'd agreed on ten, so he was right on time. She should have been expecting him.

Gary backed out of the doorway, ready to call it in. He could wait around for a bit, but not forever.

But just as he was about to turn back, he took one last look into the house and caught a glimpse of something that made him look twice.

Poking out from around a wall was what appeared to be a foot wearing a white sock.

"What the hell...?" he said out loud. He blinked to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

No--that was definitely a human foot.

Gary's heart sank. Forget getting in trouble--he rushed into the house, hurrying over to the foot. Maybe the lady fell and hit her head. Maybe she had a heart attack and needed help.

"Ma'am!" Gary shouted as he rushed over.

But the moment he turned the corner, he could see the woman--Sharon--lying face-down on the floor, her body pale and motionless.

Panicking, Gary got on his knees next to her. His hands shook. There wasn't any blood around, so maybe she was okay. Maybe she just fainted.

He carefully moved her onto her back and quickly checked for a pulse.

His heart raced with dread. He felt nothing. No sign of life at all. Just cold, clammy skin.

Sharon French was dead, and there was a strange smell in the air—something chemical. Something he’d never smelled before.

And Gary had the bone-chilling feeling that this was no accident.

CHAPTER ONE

---