Read Online Stolen in the Night by Patricia MacDonald - Free Book Online

woman who worked so hard to bring this day
     about, and I refer, of course, to the mother of Lazarus Abbott, Mrs. Edith Abbott.”
    “This is bullshit,” Jake muttered. “Pure bullshit.”
    The governor tried to hand the microphone to Edith, but she was holding a large, white
     handkerchief to her face and was shaking her head. The governor looked to the attorney
     in the navy pinstripe suit. “Mr. Ramsey?”
    The silver-haired attorney stood up and took the mike from the governor.
    “Thank you, Governor,” said Ben Ramsey. The mike amplified a deep voice that was perfectly
     modulated. “I want to thank the governor for having the courage to allow these tests
     to go forward, so that the truth, as terrible as it is, could finally come out. Our
     worst fears have been realized. The wrong man has been executed and there is no way
     to bring him back. With all due respect to the good intentions of the police department,
     this wrong can never be righted. There will be no justice for Lazarus Abbott.”
    “No justice, my ass,” Jake swore.
    “I think I’m gonna be sick,” said Tess.
    Jake looked at her. “Really? Like, puke?” he asked.
    Tess nodded.
    “You don’t look good. All right, hang on. I’ll get you out of here.”
    Jake stood up and helped his sister to her feet. Tess felt as if she couldn’t breathe,
     as if the room were spinning around her. A number of reporters swung cameras and microphones
     in their direction.
    “Move,” said Jake. “Get out of my way. Give my sister some air.”
    A wall of reporters blocked their way. Chan Morris saw them getting up to go and leaned
     over to whisper in the ear of the governor. Governor Putnam rose to his feet again
     and indicated to Ben Ramsey that he wanted the mike.
    “Excuse me, Mr. Ramsey. For just a moment. Folks, before you go…I want to say to the
     family of Phoebe DeGraff that we haven’t forgotten their sister. Her death was a tragic
     loss…”
    Jake, who was attempting to lead Tess toward the door, elbowing reporters out of the
     way, stopped and turned. He looked daggers at the governor and the people assembled
     at the front. “You hack. Keep your fake sympathy and go to hell…”
    “Jake, don’t,” Tess whispered, clinging to his arm. “Let’s just go.”
    Reporters shoved their microphones at them, but Jake batted them away like greenhead
     flies. “Get away from me,” he growled, “I swear to God…” Jake pulled his sister’s
     arm through his own and lifted his shoulder, ready to batter his way through the crowd
     if necessary.
    “Let those people alone,” the governor insisted, his voice booming in the mike. “All
     of you. Just get out of their way.”
    Reluctantly, the newspeople began to part to make a pathway and let them pass. As
     Jake pushed open the plate-glass door of the newspaper office, Tess extricated her
     arm from his and rushed out, gulping in the fresh air.
    “There,” said Jake. “Now you’ll feel better.”
    But Tess shook her head. Clutching her jacket closed, she ran toward the car. When
     she reached it, Tess was gasping. She steadied herself with one hand on the car’s
     front fender and willed the spasms in her stomach to stop. It was no use. With a horrible
     gagging cry, she bent over and threw up her breakfast into the brown grass bordering
     the parking lot.
     
    Dawn was watching at the front window of the inn’s library when Jake pulled up and
     a white-faced Tess climbed out of the car on wobbly legs. Dawn rushed to the front
     door and held her arms out. Tess entered her embrace like a small child.
    “Come inside. Come in,” said Dawn.
    Tess stiffened. “I can’t sit out here. It’s too…public.”
    “No, I know. We’ll go to my rooms. Erny’s back there right now.”
    The three of them hurried past the spacious common rooms of the inn and Dawn ushered
     them through the curtained French doors that led to the tidy little innkeeper’s suite.
     Erny was lying on a braided