Read Online Edward Unconditionally Common Powers 3 by Lynn Lorenz - Free Book Online
Authors: Lynn Lorenz
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up the glasses and plate of cookies and headed into the kitchen. “You've got your key. Just let yourself in when you get back.”
“Are you sure?” Edward went to the door. “Will you still be up?”
“I go to bed early and wake up early these days.” She came out of the kitchen and walked up to him as he stood at the door. “If I don't see you, have a good night, and I'll see you in the morning.” She leaned up, he offered his cheek, and she kissed it.
He kissed her cheek in return. “Good night, Meemaw. I'm so glad I came.”
“Me too, child.” She patted his cheek and then headed down the hall. “Your room is the one right here.” She stopped by the first door. “The next is the guest bath.”
“Thanks.” He nodded, then slipped out the front door, pulling it shut behind him, then locking it.
Edward got in the Miata, backed out of the drive, and headed into town.
At the police station, he parked and went inside.
Kristen looked up from her work. “You again?”
He propped his hip on the edge of her desk. “Yes. Did you miss me?”
She laughed, pushed him off, and shook her head. “No.”
“Is Jack here?”
“No, he's gone for the day. Can I help you with anything?”
“Well, I left my bags in the trunk of his police car.”
“In the cruiser?” She frowned. “He takes that car home. Sorry. If it were here, I'd get your bags for you.”
“Great.” Edward sighed. “Where does he live? I'll just go and get them.”
Kristen stared at him as if making up her mind to give him this valuable piece of information. Her mind made up in Edward's favor, she tore off a sheet from a notepad and scribbled on it, then handed it to him. “You take the left when the road splits. He's about five miles down the road. The house sits all by itself; you can't miss it.”
“Thanks.” Edward smiled and left Kristen to her work.
* * * *
Jack scooped half the lasagna onto his plate, put the other half on a plate for Winston, and placed it on the floor. The dog wasted no time in digging in. Jack sat at the table, picked up his fork, and attacked his food with much less enthusiasm than the dog. Since this headache, his appetite had fallen off, and most of the time he didn't feel like eating.
The silence was broken only by the scrape of Jack's fork and Winston's chomping and snorting. Christ, the dog was the noisiest eater he'd ever heard. And sloppy. Buried in the lasagna, Winston's face was covered in red sauce, and the plate danced across the floor as the dog licked it clean.
“Good, huh? Glad you liked it.” Jack smiled at the dog. Winston lay down, noisily licking his muzzle and cleaning his paws. “You're like a cat, you know? Only sloppier and louder. Cleaning yourself up all the time.” He chuckled.
Winston ignored the insult.
Jack got up, picked up Winston's plate, washed both plates, and put them in the rack to dry. He went into the living room, sat in the recliner, and pulled the lever to recline.
Feet in the air, the pain in his ankle lessened, but his head still pounded.
Jack turned on the TV and flicked around the stations. Found a documentary about Antarctica and settled back to watch. After about ten minutes, his vision blurred again, and he rubbed his eyes to clear it.
“Shit.” This was getting scary. He looked around the room, trying to focus on anything, but it was all a blur of colors and shapes. Getting up, he made his way to the kitchen sink and splashed water into his eyes.
Still blurry.
Fear, asleep in the pit of his stomach, woke and began clawing its way out.
His doorbell rang.
“What the hell?” Jack dried off his face. Of all the times for someone to drop by, it had to be now, when he could barely see. In the hall, he misjudged the space and slammed his bare foot into the small table that held his keys. “Shit!”
The doorbell rang again.
“I'm coming! Hold your horses.” He limped to the door and jerked it open.
A man stood in the doorway. Jack
“Are you sure?” Edward went to the door. “Will you still be up?”
“I go to bed early and wake up early these days.” She came out of the kitchen and walked up to him as he stood at the door. “If I don't see you, have a good night, and I'll see you in the morning.” She leaned up, he offered his cheek, and she kissed it.
He kissed her cheek in return. “Good night, Meemaw. I'm so glad I came.”
“Me too, child.” She patted his cheek and then headed down the hall. “Your room is the one right here.” She stopped by the first door. “The next is the guest bath.”
“Thanks.” He nodded, then slipped out the front door, pulling it shut behind him, then locking it.
Edward got in the Miata, backed out of the drive, and headed into town.
At the police station, he parked and went inside.
Kristen looked up from her work. “You again?”
He propped his hip on the edge of her desk. “Yes. Did you miss me?”
She laughed, pushed him off, and shook her head. “No.”
“Is Jack here?”
“No, he's gone for the day. Can I help you with anything?”
“Well, I left my bags in the trunk of his police car.”
“In the cruiser?” She frowned. “He takes that car home. Sorry. If it were here, I'd get your bags for you.”
“Great.” Edward sighed. “Where does he live? I'll just go and get them.”
Kristen stared at him as if making up her mind to give him this valuable piece of information. Her mind made up in Edward's favor, she tore off a sheet from a notepad and scribbled on it, then handed it to him. “You take the left when the road splits. He's about five miles down the road. The house sits all by itself; you can't miss it.”
“Thanks.” Edward smiled and left Kristen to her work.
* * * *
Jack scooped half the lasagna onto his plate, put the other half on a plate for Winston, and placed it on the floor. The dog wasted no time in digging in. Jack sat at the table, picked up his fork, and attacked his food with much less enthusiasm than the dog. Since this headache, his appetite had fallen off, and most of the time he didn't feel like eating.
The silence was broken only by the scrape of Jack's fork and Winston's chomping and snorting. Christ, the dog was the noisiest eater he'd ever heard. And sloppy. Buried in the lasagna, Winston's face was covered in red sauce, and the plate danced across the floor as the dog licked it clean.
“Good, huh? Glad you liked it.” Jack smiled at the dog. Winston lay down, noisily licking his muzzle and cleaning his paws. “You're like a cat, you know? Only sloppier and louder. Cleaning yourself up all the time.” He chuckled.
Winston ignored the insult.
Jack got up, picked up Winston's plate, washed both plates, and put them in the rack to dry. He went into the living room, sat in the recliner, and pulled the lever to recline.
Feet in the air, the pain in his ankle lessened, but his head still pounded.
Jack turned on the TV and flicked around the stations. Found a documentary about Antarctica and settled back to watch. After about ten minutes, his vision blurred again, and he rubbed his eyes to clear it.
“Shit.” This was getting scary. He looked around the room, trying to focus on anything, but it was all a blur of colors and shapes. Getting up, he made his way to the kitchen sink and splashed water into his eyes.
Still blurry.
Fear, asleep in the pit of his stomach, woke and began clawing its way out.
His doorbell rang.
“What the hell?” Jack dried off his face. Of all the times for someone to drop by, it had to be now, when he could barely see. In the hall, he misjudged the space and slammed his bare foot into the small table that held his keys. “Shit!”
The doorbell rang again.
“I'm coming! Hold your horses.” He limped to the door and jerked it open.
A man stood in the doorway. Jack
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