Read Online Ripples by DL Fowler - Free Book Online Page A

talk some sense into you about this thing with your neighbor.”
    “It’s not a thing with my neighbor. It’s a kid’s life….”
    “Got your voicemail. God, Jake. What’s gotten into you?”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Since when do you let stuff like this get under your skin? What is it with you and this girl?”
    “It would get to anyone … anyone who’s human.”
    “You? Human? For God’s sake …. Okay, you weren’t yourself right after Celine. Who wouldn’t come apart? But that wasn’t the real Jacob Chandler. The real Jacob Chandler only pretends to feel things. And then only to get the edge on somebody.”
    “Maybe I’ve stuffed my feelings down deep so nobody could use them against me.”
    “I thought your shrink called you a hardcore narcissist … incapable of real feelings. You just put on a show to exploit other people’s weak spots.”
    “Yeah, the same doctor that can’t get to the bottom of these holes in my memory? The best she can come up with was some psycho-babble about me suppressing guilt over Jesse’s suicide. Said for me to ‘heal,’ I have to accept responsibility for the emotional damage I inflict on others. She made it sound like I’m the head case.”
    “What damage did you do to Jesse that a thousand other CEOs haven’t done to their sons?”
    “Supposedly, I caused Jesse to have PTSD, and that’s why he killed his wife and himself. Hell. Jesse moped around half his damned life. Guess, I didn’t have to call him a wuss, though. After all, he was my son.”
    “He laid into you pretty good in his suicide note.”
    “Yeah. A few weeks before it happened, I came down on him pretty hard over his production. Told him I was tired of my top producers moaning about nepotism.”
    “You told him to take his client list elsewhere and get a taste of the real world.”
    “He made me mad, said losing Celine was all my fault.”
    “But how does this memory thing have anything to do with Jesse—that was, what four, five years ago? You were getting things under control—until this girl thing.”
    I grip the deck rail. “Damn it, Carl. I’m not going to stand by and watch another girl go through what Celine ….”
    “This girl isn’t Celine. And whoever she is, she’s none of your business.”
    “I don’t know what’s going on. It’s like something’s caged up inside me, bouncing around, wanting to break out and run amok.”
    “Get a hold of yourself, Jake. You’ve taken your eye off the ball. You need to get back on track.”
    “I care about this girl.” I stare out across the lake. “How—how do people do it, Carl?”
    “Do what?”       
    “Deal with feelings.”
    The blood drains from Carl’s face. He must be as freaked out by me talking about feelings as I am. I brush past him into the kitchen. “I’ll pour some coffee—settle those jangled nerves of yours.”
    “Mine are fine, but you need something to numb yours.”
    I grin. “Locked the stuff up. Your advice, remember?”
    Bryce
    Car tires crunch outside. Jump to my feet. Hurry to the window and look out. Hell, the damn bastard actually went and called the law on me. I scan the room again just to be sure nothing’s out for anybody to see. Once I’m sure everything’s put away out of sight, I step out on the stoop to greet him. Best if I let him think visitors get my attention. People don’t come around—ever.
    “Hello,” he says. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Baker. I’m just stopping by because we got a call from your neighbor.”
    “Is there a problem, officer?”
    “Do you have any form of ID?”
    “Sorry, sir. Don’t drive. Don’t hardly go out. Never had a need to identify myself.”
    He’s smiling. That’s a good sign.
    “Name’s Bryce, though.”
    “Bryce, your neighbor said something about a girl. He claims you threatened to hit her with a leather strap.”
    “Haven’t got a clue what he’s talking about, sir. No one here but me. Don’t really like