By Mary Higgins Clark
Ronald Thompson is aware he by no means killed Nina Peterson... but in days the kingdom of Connecticut will take his lifestyles, having stumbled on him in charge through due means of legislations. yet Thompson's dying won't cease the ache and anger of Nina's husband, Steve. Thompson's dying won't nonetheless the fears of Nna's six-year-old son, Neil, witness to his mother's brutal slaying. no longer even the affection and friendship of Sharon Martin, a journalist who's slowly turning into part of their international, will ever erase their sour stories. basically time, maybe, will heal their wounds. yet within the shadows a stranger waits, a crafty psychopath who has killed ahead of, who has unfinished company on the Peterson home...
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Additional info for A Stranger Is Watching
It was a statement. The voice was a monotone, without inflection. Sharon felt a pulse pounding in her throat, closing it. She tried to swallow. ” she asked again. The persistent soft whistle in Neil’s breathing . . suppose he was frightened into one of his asthma attacks? She would offer cooperation. “I have about ninety dollars in my purse . ” The evenly spoken words chilled her. The stranger dropped the bag he was carrying. It was a large khaki duffel bag, the kind military personnel used.
The front right door swung open. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness. Through the shadows, she could see his outline. He was carrying something . . the canvas bag. Oh, God, Neil was in that bag! She knew it. He was leaning into the car, dropping the bag onto the seat, pushing it down on the floor. Sharon heard the dull thud. Hell hurt Neil. He’ll hurt him. A door closed. Footsteps scurried around the car. The driver’s door opened, clicked shut. The shadows moved. She heard harsh breathing. He was leaning down, looking at her.
Neil had been having more frequent nightmares lately. It was 7:29. The train was leaving in one minute. If he tried to phone the doctor or the hospital or the Perrys, he’d miss the train and have to wait forty-five minutes for the next one. Perhaps there was trouble with the phone lines because of the storm. That didn’t always show up at once. Steve started to dial the Perrys, then changed his mind. He replaced the phone on the hook, then raced across the station in long, sprinting strides. 33 Taking the stairs down to the platform two at a time, he barely reached the train as the doors were closing.
A Stranger Is Watching by Mary Higgins Clark