Read Online John Saul by Guardian - Free Book Online

he’d left, stuffed the note and his key into an envelope, and slid it under the manager’s door.
    Twenty minutes later he was back in his own house, the suitcase open on the bed. His suits slung over his arm, hewent to the large closet that had always been roomy enough to hold both his and MaryAnne’s clothes, and slid some of his wife’s dresses down to make room.
    And found himself staring at an unfamiliar sport shirt, at least two sizes too large for himself.
    “Alison?” he called. “Alison!”
    A second later his daughter appeared at the bedroom door. The look on her face as her eyes focused on the shirt clutched in his hand made the message clear.
    “What the hell’s been going on around here?” he demanded. “What did your mother do, move her boyfriend in the minute I was gone?” As Alison stood frozen in the doorway, her younger brother hovering behind her, Alan hurled the shirt to the floor, then kicked it against the wall. Reflexively, Alison scurried across to pick it up.
    “I-It’s Bob’s,” she stammered. “I guess he …” Her voice trailed off as she saw the fury in her father’s eyes.
    “Who the hell is Bob?” Alan demanded. “What’s been going on around here, anyway?”
    Logan fearfully clutched Alison’s hand, and her eyes glistened with tears. “H-He isn’t anybody, Dad,” she said. “He’s just a guy Mom went out with a few times, that’s all.”
    “A few times?” Alan repeated, his voice crackling. “If she just went out with him a few times, what the hell is his shirt doing in my closet?”
    “How am I supposed to know?” Alison was suddenly shouting, the tears of a second before giving way to anger. “Maybe he just left it, Dad! Maybe he was helping Mom out with the yardwork, so she washed his shirt for him!”
    “Yeah, sure!” Alan spat the words out bitterly, his rage ballooning. “How dumb do you think I am?”
    Alison recoiled almost as if she’d been slapped, but held her ground. “Well, so what?” she shot back. “So what if he even spent the night with Mom? What were you doing? Why is what she was doing when you weren’t even here any of your business? Come on, Logan. Maybe Mom’s right! Maybe she shouldn’t let Dad move back in!” Still grasping her brother’s hand, Alison half dragged the littleboy out of the room. A second later Alan heard her slamming the door of the room the children shared.
    His fury only inflamed by his daughter’s outburst, he snatched up the offending shirt and ripped it up the back.
    What the hell kind of tramp
was
MaryAnne, anyway? And how many men had there been since he’d been gone? She’d probably had one waiting all the time. No wonder he’d fallen for Eileen Chandler, with MaryAnne ignoring him while she flirted with every man in town! It would serve her right if he didn’t move back in at all. And trying to make him feel guilty over one lousy mistake! He ripped the shirt again, yanking one of the sleeves loose, then wadded the remains up and hurled them against the wall. What else had this guy left around the house?
    He began jerking the drawers of the bureau open, pawing through them, then abandoned the chest in favor of the bathroom. He threw open the medicine cabinet, searching for anything MaryAnne’s boyfriend might have stored away.
    But all he found were his own things.
    His shaving brush, still on the shelf where he always kept it.
    His toothbrush, hanging in the rack, just where it always was.
    His Right Guard was still there and his shaving cream; even the antibiotics Dr. Weinberg had prescribed two years ago when he’d come down with a bronchial infection. All exactly where he’d left them.
    His rage began to drain away. As he stood gazing at the array of his things, things that hadn’t even been moved aside while he was gone, a feeling of shame began to creep over him.
    What the hell had he been thinking of? Alison was right—what business was it of his if MaryAnne had seen someone else