Read Online Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2) by T Patrick Phelps - Free Book Online

was certain that what she heard were words. Spoken in response to something Robby said. Words targeted and charged with a dark energy that Maggie could almost feel through the door.
    At first, she wondered if her husband, Jack, had returned from his overnight trip and was spending time with Robby. But she knew better. She knew Jack wouldn't be back until Robby's bedtime and certainly wouldn't be in Robby's room talking to him about anything that would require a closed door.
    Maggie paused. Her left hand grasped the doorknob, and her eyes, blistering with warm tears, were opened as wide as they could be. She wanted to be sure that she heard what she believed she had heard. If she sprang into Robby's room, with panic etched across her face, she knew she would only embarrass her son and send him even deeper into the emotional cave he was living in.
    But when she heard the voice again, her reservations evaporated. In one surprisingly smooth move, she opened the bedroom door and hastened its opening with a thrusting shoulder. Her eyes locked, out of memory, on Robby's face as he sat on his bed. His face comforted her. He seemed thankful that his mom had stormed into the room and was there, not to accuse him of being "crazy" but instead to investigate why his friend was suddenly able to make his voice so loud. His face comforted her, but what she saw out of the corner of her eye did not.
    It was a clearly defined shadow of movement. Maggie was certain that the figure was that of a man who had quickly drawn his right arm up to cover his face as he retreated swiftly backwards before seeming being absorbed into Robby's wardrobe.
    "You saw him, didn't you mom?"
    "Robby? Robby?"
    "You saw him. Tell me you saw him, mommy?"
    "I saw him, Robby," Maggie said.
    She rushed to his side, scooped him into her arms, and quickly made her way out of his bedroom. She shut the bedroom door behind her with her trailing foot and carried her son as far away from his room as the confines of her house allowed.
    "Did you see his face?" Robby asked.
    "Oh, my God, Robby. I'm so sorry."
    "Did you see his face?" he asked again, his eyes pregnant with expected hope.
    "No," she said as she shook her head. "I didn't see his face."
    With Robby sitting on the sofa in the living room, Maggie walked back down the hallway to his room. When she reached his bedroom door, Maggie paused and strained her ears to listen to anything coming from the inside of Robby's bedroom. Hearing nothing, she opened the door, released her hold of the handle, and let the door swing fully open.
    All looked as it should. Robby's bed was tidy, save for the pillows he had moved to make his sitting against the headboard more comfortable. His schoolbooks lay open towards the foot of his bed, and his sweater was lying where Robby had dropped it on the floor, six inches from the dirty clothes hamper.
    Maggie moved, her jaw and fists clenched, towards the five-foot high wardrobe that was set a couple of feet away from the foot of Robby's bed. The wardrobe was designed and built by Jack. It was solid oak with hasps custom made of antiqued brass. Both doors of the wardrobe, which spanned the entire five feet of the furniture piece, were closed tightly. Maggie stood before the wardrobe doors, and without hesitating, pulled them open.
    Inside, just as they should be, sat Robby's clothes. Dress shirts and pants, or as Robby called them, his "fancy clothes," all on hangers on the right-hand side of the wardrobe, socks on a lower shelf, and shoes and sneakers clumsily arranged on the bottom. T-shirts, underwear, sweaters, and sleep clothes all neatly stacked on their appropriate shelves on the left-hand side.
    Nothing was out of place, and nothing was inside of the wardrobe that didn't belong.
    Maggie shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingers.
    "Get a grip, girl," she said to herself. "Your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you're just too stressed out. Take a deep breath."
    She drew in a