Chapter 21
Duncan saw the whole thing. He felt in his black leather waist pack for the knife he’d bought in the shop. He managed to get the knife out of its sheathe and ran his fingers over the point, pricking himself.
Damn. Duncan put his finger up to his lips until the blood ceased to flow. But his mind was somewhere else.
Damn. She was there. Right by the Ferris wheel . . . and . . . she wasn’t getting on. The other two were on. The detective was reaching out. She’d turned pale. Looked like she was in pain again, the symptoms that wouldn’t go away for a long, long time. He chuckled. Pain suited her well.
The detective was reaching for her. Annabelle was saying something, backing away. Waiting in line behind them, Duncan inched closer.
The Ferris wheel began to churn. The chair rock
