Read Online Ms. Zephyr's Notebook by KC Dyer - Free Book Online

doing homework and keep your e-mail connected, okay? That way if Cleo contacts you during the night, you can fill me in.”
    Kip nodded enthusiastically. “Are you going to put the notebook back on Abbie’s desk?”
    Logan shook his head. “Nah, I want to read through it some more. Maybe it has an address or something in the back. I’ll have plenty of time. It’s going to be a long bus ride.” He looked at his watch again. 11:45 p.m. And it was a fifteen-minute run from the hospital to the bus station… when he was in shape. “I gotta go, buddy. Watch for my e-mail, okay? It’s really important. Just like ‘M’ in James Bond, right?”
    â€œI remember him! He’s in my computer game!”
    Logan shook his head. What’s wrong with kids these days? They spend so much time on this computer crap, you’d think they’d never heard of movies. “Geez kid — when I get back I’ve got a couple of shows you’ve gotta see, okay?”
    â€œReally? Okay, Logan. Good luck.” Kip was beaming,and Logan found himself smiling back. But time was up. It was past up.
    Logan tucked the notebook into the waistband of his scrubs and stuck his head out the door. A red light was flashing over the ICU wing and the three nurses were nowhere to be seen. Bonus! Time to hit the stairs running.
    Logan’s trip down the back staircase took place at a higher rate of speed than he had anticipated. His mind occupied by the conversation with Kip, he forgot his earlier meeting with the custodian. He never actually lost his footing, first sliding on the wet floor, then grabbing the handrail for support. And in a decision that took less than an instant, he thought that maybe riding the handrail down might prove to be the best course of action in any case. So he did.
    He made it safely to the basement, had another close call when the custodian stepped unexpectedly out of the morgue (who expects anyone to step out of a morgue in the middle of the night, anyway?), and shot out the door with his coat in one hand and Abbie’s notebook in the other. When he made it to the station there would be plenty of time to read through the notebook to find what he needed. He needed Cleo’s grandmother’s address. If it wasn’t in the notebook, Kip might be ableto find it. And as soon as he’d delivered what he had in his pocket to Cleo, he’d bring the notebook back to Abbie. She’d understand. She had to.
    As he ran, he jammed his arms into the sleeves and took a moment to ensure the inner pocket was safely fastened before zipping the coat closed against the frigid night air. For cold it was — winter had well and truly come to Evergreen. In spite of his good intentions, Logan had to slow to a walk for a block or two when his insides twisted with pain from the unexpected running.
    In direct contrast to the fire in his belly, his fingers and toes soon numbed in the sub-zero temperatures. His breath came in frozen gasps, the moisture crystallizing on his eyelashes and trimming the ends of the hair with white.
    He jogged up to the bus station at 12:10 am. Ten minutes late. But in spite of all his anxiety, he found that he needn’t have hurried after all. The engine block on the bus had frozen solid when the driver had stopped for a coffee and neglected to keep the vehicle running. In the end, Logan helped the driver clip the cables onto the battery and earned himself a free bus ride when the engine roared to life.
    â€œDon’t mention it to the ticket seller,” the driver had muttered gruffly. “She’s out for my job.”
    â€œI won’t if you won’t,” said Logan, so grateful not to have missed his ride as to be feeling almost cheerful.
    A woman was collecting money in a kettle to one sideof the station, having taken shelter from the storm. He had just watched the ticket seller sternly admonish her that there was to be no