Read Online Message Received by Rosemarie Naramore - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t protest, but only snuggled into the soft cushions.  He
covered her with a blanket and then returned to his office.  He had some
investigative work to do.
    Amanda woke with a start an hour later.  She sat
up, disoriented, and looked around.  Her eyes lit on Brady.  He was now kicked
back in a recliner, watching television with the volume on low.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. 
    “No need to apologize.  You were tired,” he said
with a shrug.  “It’s no big deal.”
    “Have you heard anything about the
grandparents?” she asked with a yawn.
    He dropped the leg rest of the recliner with a
decisive snap.  “Yep.  The fugitives are on their way to Cocoa Beach, Florida,
as we speak.”
    Amanda laughed.  “Well, of course they are. 
Where else would they be?”
    “One more thing…,” he began.
     “What’s that?”
    “I booked us a flight to Orlando.”
    “You did?”
    He nodded wearily.  “It seems Granddad is on a
special blood thinner medication.  He has to have his blood taken once a week,
at which time his doctor calls him to tell him how much medication he needs to
take…”
    “You mean, it can fluctuate?”
    “Yep.  I spoke to his doctor—wasn’t easy getting
through to him with all these privacy laws—but anyway, I got through, and
that’s how I learned that it’s critical Granddad get exactly the right amount
of medication.  My best guess is—he’s keeping that bit of pertinent information
from your grandmother.”
    “Oh, good grief.  Did you try to call him?”
    “Yes.  And he won’t take my calls.”  He gave a
weary sigh.  “I guess I taught him that particular trick—how to ignore phone
calls.”
    Amanda rose and crossed the room.  She squeezed
his shoulder.  “You need to stop beating yourself up.  None of this is…”
    “It is too my fault.  And yours too!  If we’d
paid them an occasional visit, or placed a phone call to them—or even took
their occasional calls to us—this wouldn’t have happened.”
    What could she say?  He was right.  And the poor
guy looked tortured.  She extended a hand to him.  He took it and she pulled
him up.  She tugged him close and wrapped her arms around him and patted his
back.  “There, there,” she crooned.
    He pulled back and eyed her questioningly. 
“What are you doing?”
    “Comforting you,” she said simply.  “What do you
think I’m doing?  Here, come closer.”
    “You make me laugh,” he said, but wrapped his
arms around her and pulled her tightly against him.  “This is how you comfort
somebody,” he informed.
    She wondered, did his idea of comforting her
really involve plunging his nose into her hair, and inhaling deeply, or running
his hand along her upper arm?  And did he really have to nuzzle his cheek
against her cheek?  And what did he intend to do with his lips?  They were
hovering precariously close to her mouth.   
    “Oh, good grief.”  She shoved him away. 
“Consider yourself comforted.”
    He seemed disappointed.  “I don’t know.  I might
need some more comforting.  I’m feeling rather bad about myself right now.”  He
spread his arms and gave a slight nod in his direction, indicating her closer.
    “You’re fine,” she said crisply.
    He cocked his head in thought.  “I … really
don’t know.  Maybe we should try that again.”
    “Oh, good grief,” she muttered, as she took step
back.  “So, what time do we leave?  And how will we find our grandparents when
we get there?”
    “Cocoa Beach isn’t very big,” he told her.  “And
I have the name of their hotel, and even their room numbers.”
    “Numbers?”
    He nodded. 
    “Oh, thank God,” she said.  “I don’t know how
I’d explain to my mother that her mother is sharing a room with a
man, if indeed that were the case.”
    “Well, so far, it seems everyone’s virtue is
intact.”
    “Yeah, well, it had better stay that way,” she
warned, wagging a finger at him.
    “Okay then, my