Read Online Long Gone Man by Phyllis Smallman - Free Book Online Page B

leave. I don’t mind if you stay a while.” A look of surprise lit Lauren’s face at her own words.
    Singer smiled. “Thank you.”
    Lauren turned away and began briskly grating nutmeg. “We’ll ask if you can leave the island when we’re at their headquarters. Leave your van here and I’ll give you a lift down.”
    But Singer had plans of her own. “I’d like to take a gander around town. What’s it called again?”
    â€œKilborn.”
    â€œKilborn, the gem of the islands. Isn’t that what they call it? Might never get back here so I’d like to see it.”
    Lauren frowned. “Okay, but stay out of trouble.”
    An irrepressible grin lit Singer’s face. “Now why in the world would you think I’d get into trouble?”
    â€œOh, I don’t know.” Lauren dried her hands on a cloth. “I just felt I should add that. Heaven knows you seem like nothing but trouble.” Still drying her hands, Lauren watched Singer. “My life is kinda tied to yours right now. We have to be careful.”
    â€œDon’t worry. I’m not going to let you down.” Breathing deeply, Singer said, “It smells like heaven in here. What is it?”
    â€œMuffins, cinnamon buns, and coffee cake.”
    â€œWell that explains Johnny’s size. Did you stay up all night?”
    â€œJust about. Cooking calms me down and someone always eats it.” She went to the coffee carafe and filled a mug. “I thought I might take it to the guys searching outside.”
    Singer wasn’t listening. It had been too dark last night to see the true grandeur of the view beyond the kitchen. Now the shock of it froze her in wonder. A huge, spreading fig tree with leaves the size of dinner plates took center stage at the kitchen window. Excited to see more, Singer went to the sliding doors in the dining area. Outside, a flagstone patio, the same flagstone as the paths at the front of the house, stretched along the back. The whole patio was enclosed by a low, stone wall with various seating areas and dining areas scattered over the green slate. Beyond the patio, dark blue islands floated on an ocean streaked in hues of blue.
    â€œHoly shit,” Singer said.
    Lauren lifted her head and glanced to where Singer stood at the sliding doors and then she went back to stirring the mixture in the bowl. “The Mounties were in the house all night. They took boxes of things out of John’s office, including his Rolodex with all his contacts. This morning more people arrived. Looks like most of the volunteer fire department is out there walking along, eyes down, searching the ground in front of them. Nobody can come to the house until they’ve finished.” The oven rang. She put on thick mitts and opened it. “Suits me. Last thing I want is the Pyes in here, making themselves at home. Aaron called this morning, which was bad enough, and Steven.”
    Three small mule deer stepped out of the woods. They turned their heads to look at Singer and began eating the boxwoods growing in giant planters along the western boundary of the patio.
    â€œAre they pets?” Singer whispered, afraid she’d startle them.
    Lauren turned to see what Singer was talking about. “Damn things are everywhere.” Lauren grabbed a dishtowel. “You were lucky not to hit one coming up the road.” She opened the sliding door and flapped the cloth towards the deer, while Missy darted outside, barking. The deer lifted their heads and considered the small dog before trotting lightly towards the woods. At the edge of the lawn they stopped again and looked back.
    Missy, pleased with this sign of success, dashed towards them with more vigor. Incapable of simultaneously barking and running, her method was to scurry a few feet and then stop and bark. Then she’d run a little closer and yap some more. The deer seemed only mildly concerned.
    â€œDamn