Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (reading strategies book TXT) 📕

the end of the day and Stripe walked out towards the gate where Doug, Zippo and Jace were waiting for her.

“So, how did it go with the weirdo?” Zippo asked.

“Terribly,” Stripe murmured, wanting to eat her body weight in cookie dough. She turned and watched the very person they were talking about stalk along the other side of the road. Cameron was with her friends; they laughed when they looked at Stripe, their smiles growing wider every second.

“She’s such a bitch,” Stripe hissed. I wanna wipe their smiles off their smug spotty fucking faces.

Cameron must have read her words and stuck her middle finger up. Then she mouthed something:

Fuck.

You.

Cameron winked at Stripe and kissed her middle finger, a merry farewell.

Zippo took notice, stepping forward. Doug grabbed his elbow. “Don’t bother, buddy. She’s not worth it.”

Stripe felt stupid and embarrassed. She’d be the laughing stock of school. Christopher, Leon and Travis were like hyenas with gossip. They had the best connections with the popular people and when it came to creating a lie, they sunk their teeth in deep and munched till there was only bones left. She couldn’t fathom what made her confront Cameron. She wasn’t normally a person who broke the rules but something had driven her to do it.

Chapter Five

The police on duty wanted to make sure they scoped the crime scene before the press picked up the scent. They were like a dog with a bone, if they saw food and it was flying, they’d come running. Especially in this case.

Pamela Sevigny pushed the handkerchief over her nose as she ducked under the tape laced around the house. She’d got the call on her drive. When she heard the details, she ditched her coffee run and raced to the location. The forensic staff in their white faceless suits came scurrying up and down the stairs like army ants.

Not again, she thought.

The body lay in the bed, and the smell of blood and bodily fluids hit her senses. The handkerchief wasn’t doing much good. No matter how many dead or injured bodies she’d seen, the stench was something she never grew accustomed to. When she saw her first corpse, she’d spewed her lunch down her uniform. They’d found a homeless man who’d died in a forgotten bicycle shelter. Citizens living nearby complained about a pungent repulsive smell, his body had been rotting in the warm temperature for weeks. When a person or an animal dies, all bodily fluids release from their exits. To Pamela, it was a memorable time. A crucial part of a police officer’s training. More challenging than firearm and self-defence classes.

The victim’s eyes were alight in terror. His throat had been hacked open; there wasn’t a dry blotch left on the quilt.

“What happened?” Pam asked the detective; her voice slightly muffled from the mouth-covering.

“We have here a Mr Gerald Blair, killed in his sleep,” her boss replied, he didn’t have anything to shield himself from the smell. “I’ve looked through his belongings, nothing’s been stolen. He’s, he was divorced, worked in the pharmaceutical industry, a father of one. A normal, nine till five hard working guy it seems. He must have woken up while he was being torn apart. Poor bastard.”

“Do you think it’s the Night Scrawler?”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Why not? He’s been killed in the same way the previous victims were murdered, axed to death in their beds. I think it’s a suitable nickname, in fact it’s perfect. Creeping into people’s bedrooms late at night while they slept, it’s something out of a horror movie. And how do you know it’s a him? This could be the actions of a woman.”

He laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Women have killed people too, Rick. Look at Aileen Wuornos.”

“Her actions are debatable. She said she killed those men out of self-defence because they raped her.”

“Yeah, and then she changed her story and said she killed them in cold blood. She was the product of an abusive childhood; she was mentally ill.”

“She changed her plea because she was tired of being on death row for so many years. God forbid if I was in that situation, I’d want to break the agenda too.”

Pamela’s boss constantly tried to lighten the mood even in the gruesome face of death, he wasn’t the most politically correct person either. Cracking up jokes and crude one liners was a handy defence mechanism in this profession, but it only stretched so far.

Above Gerald’s head, the letters were angry and dripping, a true honest expression of violence. Blood wasn’t an ideal substance to paint in, but Pamela got the message loud and clear:

LIAR

Chapter Six

Netball. The game of nightmares and severe injuries.

Stripe watched in terror as the girls bounced the ball, others grasped it with agility, and it came careening towards her. Stripe caught it, someone bashed into her, knocking her sideways. When she dropped the ball, it was swiped from her hands. She looked up and saw Cameron smiling before skipping off to pound it into the net. Stripe tried her best to shrug it off and repositioned herself ready for another game.

The ball was thrown up again and competitive hands batted it to the floor. Stripe zoomed forwards as Cameron lynched it from the other girls. She kept on her tail and sped in front of her. Cameron jumped to score and Stripe pushed forwards, swotting the ball free. Cameron lost her footing, and glared at Stripe, who smiled back.

Cameron retrieved the ball and watched as Stripe strutted back to her position. She aimed precisely and it bounced off the top of Stripe’s head. It didn’t hurt at first, it took Stripe a few moments to process it and a sharp pain dug into the top of her skull. Then she heard the rise of giggles from the other girls. Right, now I’m really pissed.

Stripe turned quick on her heel, throwing all of her weight at Cameron. They both crashed to the floor and she began to smack Cameron.

“Fucking hell, Stripe!” Jace