Read Online An Adrien English Mystery: The Dark Tide by Josh Lanyon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Josh Lanyon
Ads: Link
about you bringing a support partner to rehab today.”
“No, we didn't. You did.” And now I was losing my temper. “Even if I wanted to put someone else through this, there isn't anyone.”
“I know that's not true. Your mother—”
“Jesus. You don't give up, do you? I'm thirty-five years old. I don't want to go through cardiac rehab with my mom, although I sincerely appreciate the fact that she's paying for all this.
I can get through it on my own. I prefer to do it on my own.”
Mother, please, Mother, I'd rather do it myself!
Dr. Shearing gave me a long, unsmiling look. “There's not a lot I can do with that attitude.”
Fortunately.
* * * * *
“How'd it go?” Lauren asked when I climbed into her BMW about thirty minutes later.
“It's going fine.” I relaxed against the headrest.
She glanced at me. “That was a heavy sigh.”
Lauren was the eldest of my stepsisters. Like Natalie, she was a tall, leggy blonde; classic California girl. She possessed a much more serious temperament, though. Her days were spent working for a nonprofit organization, and her evenings went to charity work. She was in the middle of an ugly divorce and had moved back home, which right there meant she already had her own problems and didn't need mine.
I smiled wearily. “Everything's fine. It's only that I'm tired of being tired.”
“I know,” she commiserated, starting the car.
She didn't know, of course. That didn't change the fact that she wanted to help—genuinely wanted to help, wasn't simply offering lip service. That was one of the strangest parts of having acquired an extended family this late in life. Having all these people who genuinely cared, were genuinely interested, were not only willing but eager to help. It took getting used to. Even after two years, it caught me off guard.
Even more surprising to me was that, despite what everyone seemed to think, I sort of reciprocated. I was mildly fond of gruff Bill Dauten, and I was, well, very fond of the girls. In fact, when Natalie had hurled herself sobbing into my arms yesterday, I'd experienced the 36
Josh Lanyon
completely unfamiliar urge to break someone's face in her defense. I couldn't remember a time when anyone had relied on me, really relied on me, let alone turned to me for protection and comfort.
It had felt…good.
We drove out of the crowded lot—another sore spot: I wasn't allowed to drive yet and probably had to put up with another two or more weeks of being a passenger in my own life.
“Why don't we go by the house?” Lauren said out of the blue. “I mean, the bookstore is closed today anyway. Emma is dying to show you pictures of ponies. And it would do wonders for Lisa's nerves.”
I studied her profile. “I guess she's still upset about the…er…”
“The skeleton in the floor? You could say that.” She spared me a quick, wry smile. “It was all over the local news last night. She tried to send Daddy out to bring you home.”
I raised my head and stared. At last I managed, “I guess I owe Bill one.”
Lauren nodded. Her lips quivered, and I could see she was working not to laugh. “Don't tell Lisa. I thought your skeleton sounded kind of interesting.”
“It is, kind of,” I admitted. I considered telling her that someone had tried to break in to the bookstore for two nights running, but no way would she be able to refrain from passing that intel on to Lisa. It's like these women had signed a blood oath to put loyalty to their sub rosa sisterhood above all else.
“She's afraid you're going to get involved in another murder investigation.”
“No.”
Lauren didn't reply.
“Even if I did look into it…most of the principals would be long gone. It's a cold case. I mean, I'm not considering getting involved, but…”
Lauren shrugged. “Fifty years ago. If someone was in their twenties back then, they could still be around.”
“Even Lisa can't think I'm at risk from the seventy-and-up
“No, we didn't. You did.” And now I was losing my temper. “Even if I wanted to put someone else through this, there isn't anyone.”
“I know that's not true. Your mother—”
“Jesus. You don't give up, do you? I'm thirty-five years old. I don't want to go through cardiac rehab with my mom, although I sincerely appreciate the fact that she's paying for all this.
I can get through it on my own. I prefer to do it on my own.”
Mother, please, Mother, I'd rather do it myself!
Dr. Shearing gave me a long, unsmiling look. “There's not a lot I can do with that attitude.”
Fortunately.
* * * * *
“How'd it go?” Lauren asked when I climbed into her BMW about thirty minutes later.
“It's going fine.” I relaxed against the headrest.
She glanced at me. “That was a heavy sigh.”
Lauren was the eldest of my stepsisters. Like Natalie, she was a tall, leggy blonde; classic California girl. She possessed a much more serious temperament, though. Her days were spent working for a nonprofit organization, and her evenings went to charity work. She was in the middle of an ugly divorce and had moved back home, which right there meant she already had her own problems and didn't need mine.
I smiled wearily. “Everything's fine. It's only that I'm tired of being tired.”
“I know,” she commiserated, starting the car.
She didn't know, of course. That didn't change the fact that she wanted to help—genuinely wanted to help, wasn't simply offering lip service. That was one of the strangest parts of having acquired an extended family this late in life. Having all these people who genuinely cared, were genuinely interested, were not only willing but eager to help. It took getting used to. Even after two years, it caught me off guard.
Even more surprising to me was that, despite what everyone seemed to think, I sort of reciprocated. I was mildly fond of gruff Bill Dauten, and I was, well, very fond of the girls. In fact, when Natalie had hurled herself sobbing into my arms yesterday, I'd experienced the 36
Josh Lanyon
completely unfamiliar urge to break someone's face in her defense. I couldn't remember a time when anyone had relied on me, really relied on me, let alone turned to me for protection and comfort.
It had felt…good.
We drove out of the crowded lot—another sore spot: I wasn't allowed to drive yet and probably had to put up with another two or more weeks of being a passenger in my own life.
“Why don't we go by the house?” Lauren said out of the blue. “I mean, the bookstore is closed today anyway. Emma is dying to show you pictures of ponies. And it would do wonders for Lisa's nerves.”
I studied her profile. “I guess she's still upset about the…er…”
“The skeleton in the floor? You could say that.” She spared me a quick, wry smile. “It was all over the local news last night. She tried to send Daddy out to bring you home.”
I raised my head and stared. At last I managed, “I guess I owe Bill one.”
Lauren nodded. Her lips quivered, and I could see she was working not to laugh. “Don't tell Lisa. I thought your skeleton sounded kind of interesting.”
“It is, kind of,” I admitted. I considered telling her that someone had tried to break in to the bookstore for two nights running, but no way would she be able to refrain from passing that intel on to Lisa. It's like these women had signed a blood oath to put loyalty to their sub rosa sisterhood above all else.
“She's afraid you're going to get involved in another murder investigation.”
“No.”
Lauren didn't reply.
“Even if I did look into it…most of the principals would be long gone. It's a cold case. I mean, I'm not considering getting involved, but…”
Lauren shrugged. “Fifty years ago. If someone was in their twenties back then, they could still be around.”
“Even Lisa can't think I'm at risk from the seventy-and-up
Similar Books
