Read Online The Blackstone Chronicles by John Saul - Free Book Online Page B

opened and Rebecca Morrison stepped inside. Taking in the number of people in the little newspaper office, though, she blushed crimson and turned to leave again.
    “Rebecca?” Oliver said. “What is it? Can I help you with something?”
    She hesitated, then turned back, her cheeks still flushed red. Her eyes nervously flicked from one face to another, but finally came to rest on Oliver. Taking a tentative step toward him, she held out her hand. “Th-this is for you,” she said. “Just because you’re always so nice to me.” Her flush deepening once again, she turned away and quickly ducked out the door.
    Oliver peered into the bag. Inside, wrapped in shiny silver foil, were a dozen chocolate Kisses. When he looked up again, everyone in the office was staring at him.
    Staring, and smiling.
    Oliver broke into a smile too, wishing Rebecca hadn’t scurried out of the office quite so fast.
    “Well, at least some people’s lives are going right,” Bill McGuire said, slapping Oliver on the back as he left the office.
    Seeing how happy the little bag of silver-wrapped chocolates had made Oliver, his own troubles no longer seemed quite so grim. Maybe, Bill thought, he’d just stop at the candy store and pick up a bag for Elizabeth. No, make that three bags; no sense in leaving Megan and Mrs. Goodrich out.
    Suddenly, Bill McGuire felt better than he had in days.
    An hour later Elizabeth came awake again, stretching languorously, savoring the feeling of well-being that had replaced the terrible torpor she’d felt earlier this morning. But as the last vestiges of sleep were sloughed away and she came back to consciousness, she slowly became aware of someone moving around in the next room.
    The nursery.
    Megan?
    But what would Megan be doing in the nursery?
    Rising from the chaise and carrying the doll with her, Elizabeth went through the bathroom and into the nursery.
    Mrs. Goodrich, her back to Elizabeth, was in the process of emptying the contents of the little dresser, which stood against the opposite wall, into a large cardboard box.
    “Who told you to do that?” Elizabeth demanded.
    Startled by Elizabeth’s words, Mrs. Goodrich whirled around. “Oh, dear,” she Said. “You frightened me, poppingout of the bathroom that way. You go on back to bed, dear. I can take care of all this.”
    “All what?” Elizabeth asked, moving out of the bathroom doorway into the middle of the room. “What are you doing?”
    Mrs. Goodrich placed the tiny sweater she held in her hands into the box and took another from the dresser drawer. “I just thought I’d get all this packed away for you, and put away in the attic.”
    “No,” Elizabeth said.
    Mrs. Goodrich blinked. “Beg pardon?”
    Elizabeth’s voice hardened. “I said no, Mrs. Goodrich.” Her voice began to rise. “How dare you come in here and start packing all my baby’s clothes.”
    “But I thought you’d want—” Ms. Goodrich began. Elizabeth didn’t let her finish.
    “I don’t care what you thought. Go back downstairs and leave me alone. And from now on, stay out of this room!” Mrs. Goodrich hesitated, but before she could argue, Elizabeth spoke again. “Just go! I’ll take care of this.”
    Mrs. Goodrich stared at Elizabeth in shock, barely able to believe her ears. Should she try to argue with her? she wondered.
    No, she decided. Better not to say anything right now. After all, given what she’d been through, Elizabeth couldn’t be expected to be herself quite yet. It was her own fault, really. She should have given Elizabeth more time before she began packing away the things in the nursery.
    Laying the sweater in her hand on the top of the dresser, Mrs. Goodrich quietly left the room.
    When she was gone, Elizabeth went to the dresser and began removing the clothes—the little play suits and pajamas, the tiny overalls, bibs, and shirts—from the box, carefully smoothing each one out and refolding itbefore putting each item back in the drawer