Read Online Doubting Thomas (Tarnished Saints Series) by Elizabeth Rose - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Rose
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the whiskey poured out and ran a trail across the dirty floor. His knees wobbled beneath him, and he fell into the chair. The bottle slipped from his hand in the process, and hit the floor with a clank, smashing into pieces.
He clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and asked for strength. He asked again for an angel to guide him, but his thoughts kept wandering to the woman he’d met earlier that day. Angeline DeMitri. Another nosey person digging into his life trying to cause him trouble.
His eyes roamed back up to the desk drawer and he just shook his head. What sort of sick joke was God playing on him? He had fallen from his faith long ago, and though he prayed, he was no longer sure there was a god who would take pity on him after his actions. If there was, the angel he prayed for to guide him would have done so by now.
Chapter 5
Angel was up early the next morning, careful to avoid not only Clarence and Agnes, but Nat as well. She’d told Abby to sleep late, and knew the girl would do just that. They’d all stayed up well past midnight playing Canasta.
Angel had enjoyed spending some time with her daughter, but Nat’s constant questions about her personal life were very annoying. Avoiding his questions was tricky, as a reporter has ways of making even the mute speak. And the Ainsleys were more than she could handle. They were hospitable and overly sweet to their guests, but also the typical elderly couple who liked to argue amongst themselves about little things that didn’t make a lick of sense to her.
Who cared how many times Clarence discarded a black three, freezing up the deck for Agnes? It wasn’t a personal vendetta, but part of the game. Or even the fact that Agnes couldn’t add worth a darn and melded more than once without the required fifty points? It wasn’t as if she were cheating, but Clarence had said she lied like a rug, and that had ended the game right then and there. The man just wasn’t used to losing, and it was to his advantage and Angel’s relief that they’d had to forfeit.
Gabby, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed there was anything amiss. She liked the attention she got from the Ainsleys and especially the attention from her mom. Cards were a very quiet game for Gabby. She was a tomboy through and through, and loved to play rough, and with the boys.
Angel tried her best to get her daughter to wear dresses instead of jeans, and bake cakes instead of playing ball, but Gabby would have none of it. She’d been young when her father died, but retained a few fond memories of the man. Like the times he’d showed her how to dig for night crawlers in the dirt, or how to spit a watermelon seed farther than anyone, or even how to put her fingers in her mouth and whistle.
She’d always been Daddy’s girl, and Angel knew it. But now with Brad gone, she had to fill that empty part of her daughter’s life as well. It bothered Angel that her job usually took this precious time from her child. Even now, while on vacation, she couldn’t help thinking of those bedraggled, lying little vagabonds of Thomas Taylor’s, and the way he let them run about as if they were nothing more than animals.
She stepped out the front door quietly, hoping Clarence and Agnes hadn’t heard her. They didn’t. They were too busy arguing about which one of them forget to thaw out the meat for supper, that they hadn’t even heard her come down the stairs.
The morning fog hung low over the channel, creating a sort of heavenly mist as the sun’s first rays of the day illuminated it. She took a deep breath and released it, liking the way the outdoors made her feel. She needed to do this more often. She needed to slow down her life and be one with nature.
Taking in the beauty surrounding her, she jogged along the road, ending up somehow once again on the road leading to Thomas Taylor’s.
She heard a noise up ahead and saw an old rusty truck with the words Kramer’s Garage across its side. The worn
He clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and asked for strength. He asked again for an angel to guide him, but his thoughts kept wandering to the woman he’d met earlier that day. Angeline DeMitri. Another nosey person digging into his life trying to cause him trouble.
His eyes roamed back up to the desk drawer and he just shook his head. What sort of sick joke was God playing on him? He had fallen from his faith long ago, and though he prayed, he was no longer sure there was a god who would take pity on him after his actions. If there was, the angel he prayed for to guide him would have done so by now.
Chapter 5
Angel was up early the next morning, careful to avoid not only Clarence and Agnes, but Nat as well. She’d told Abby to sleep late, and knew the girl would do just that. They’d all stayed up well past midnight playing Canasta.
Angel had enjoyed spending some time with her daughter, but Nat’s constant questions about her personal life were very annoying. Avoiding his questions was tricky, as a reporter has ways of making even the mute speak. And the Ainsleys were more than she could handle. They were hospitable and overly sweet to their guests, but also the typical elderly couple who liked to argue amongst themselves about little things that didn’t make a lick of sense to her.
Who cared how many times Clarence discarded a black three, freezing up the deck for Agnes? It wasn’t a personal vendetta, but part of the game. Or even the fact that Agnes couldn’t add worth a darn and melded more than once without the required fifty points? It wasn’t as if she were cheating, but Clarence had said she lied like a rug, and that had ended the game right then and there. The man just wasn’t used to losing, and it was to his advantage and Angel’s relief that they’d had to forfeit.
Gabby, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed there was anything amiss. She liked the attention she got from the Ainsleys and especially the attention from her mom. Cards were a very quiet game for Gabby. She was a tomboy through and through, and loved to play rough, and with the boys.
Angel tried her best to get her daughter to wear dresses instead of jeans, and bake cakes instead of playing ball, but Gabby would have none of it. She’d been young when her father died, but retained a few fond memories of the man. Like the times he’d showed her how to dig for night crawlers in the dirt, or how to spit a watermelon seed farther than anyone, or even how to put her fingers in her mouth and whistle.
She’d always been Daddy’s girl, and Angel knew it. But now with Brad gone, she had to fill that empty part of her daughter’s life as well. It bothered Angel that her job usually took this precious time from her child. Even now, while on vacation, she couldn’t help thinking of those bedraggled, lying little vagabonds of Thomas Taylor’s, and the way he let them run about as if they were nothing more than animals.
She stepped out the front door quietly, hoping Clarence and Agnes hadn’t heard her. They didn’t. They were too busy arguing about which one of them forget to thaw out the meat for supper, that they hadn’t even heard her come down the stairs.
The morning fog hung low over the channel, creating a sort of heavenly mist as the sun’s first rays of the day illuminated it. She took a deep breath and released it, liking the way the outdoors made her feel. She needed to do this more often. She needed to slow down her life and be one with nature.
Taking in the beauty surrounding her, she jogged along the road, ending up somehow once again on the road leading to Thomas Taylor’s.
She heard a noise up ahead and saw an old rusty truck with the words Kramer’s Garage across its side. The worn
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