Read Online The Book of Bad Things by Dan Poblocki - Free Book Online Page A

Lemonheads and Fireballs. Beside these was a spinning rack filled with old paperback books and a sign perched on top that read BOOK EXCHANGE: TAKE A COPY, LEAVE A COPY . She turned the frame, looking for one of Levi Stanton’s old paperbacks, but there were mostly just Mary Higgins Clarks and James Pattersons and Nathaniel Olmsteads.
    The place made her think of olden days, of stories she’d read in school by Laura Ingalls Wilder, people living out on the frontier. Joey disappeared into the maze of shelving that was filled with dry goods and other groceries.
    Cassidy found Rose in back near the deli counter, by a couple of noisy refrigerators and a generous seating area. Half a dozen people Cassidy recognized from around town — the library, the ice cream parlor, a few other local shops — lounged here on their lunch hours, munching on chips, sipping iced teas and lemonades, chatting quietly to one another. Cassidy thought she recognized a couple who’d been out at Chase Estates yesterday observing the cleanup at the Chambers house.
    Behind the counter, an elderly woman was busy wiping down the surfaces of her workstation with a wet cloth. She was plump, dressed in an old-fashioned waitress uniform and hairnet. Her eyebrows appeared to be crooked, and she wore what looked like an excessive amount of blush, a rosy pink. When she saw Rose approach, her face lit up. “Hello, Mrs. Moriarty,” Rose chirped, all of her previous fury whisked behind a mask of neighborliness. “Hot enough out there for ya?”
    “But I’m not out there, honey,” said Mrs. Moriarty. “I’m stuck in here. What can I get for you folks today?”
    Rose ordered a couple of Italian submarine sandwiches and half a pound of macaroni salad. Mrs. Moriarty pulled ingredients from the cooler and chatted with Rose over her shoulder. “Quite a to-do out by your place this week. Who knew that Chambers woman was such an old drama queen?” Rose laughed, high-pitched and unnatural, nodding as if they were talking about something other than death.
    Cassidy thought of last summer, of the face she’d seen at the Chambers house window, of the woman screaming at her to get off the property. “Drama queen” wasn’t the right expression. Yes, Ursula had been cranky — even mean — but she’d obviously been sick. The more Cassidy heard the people of Whitechapel talk about Ursula, the crueler they seemed.
    She strolled past every aisle, casually and cautiously looking for Joey. She hadn’t meant to stir things up back at the college. She didn’t know what her next step should be. After everything she’d been through in the past few years, she wasn’t ready to give up on her friendship with him. But had he given up on her? She stepped around the last corner and found him standing several feet away, staring at pet supplies, doggie treats and toys and grooming products. She immediately drew back so he couldn’t see her. Cassidy knew he was hurting. She also knew pain faded if you let it. The problem was that strange things were happening, reminders of the past popping up like ghosts — maybe even literally — and poking sharp fingers into his open wound.
    Cassidy considered that if she had seen Lucky’s ghost — an undead, growling version of the once jovial and galumphing mastiff — maybe she and Joey had bigger problems than their disintegrating friendship.
    Voices were raised at the deli counter, and Cassidy turned to see what was wrong. A couple customers who’d been eating their lunch were suddenly involved in an excited exchange with Mrs. Moriarty. She heard the name Ursula and understood what it was all about. One of the elderly men spoke up, nodding, “Stories are spreading all over town. My own grandson called this morning. Says the old coot visited him last night.”
    Rose stepped away from the counter, her eyes wide. She glanced around, as if looking for Joey, as if she did not want him to hear such things. Cassidy edged up beside