Read Online Unspeakable by Kevin O'Brien - Free Book Online Page B

close-up, her face looked slightly careworn. Her wavy blond hair was cut short. She always smelled like lavender, which was also her favorite color. At the moment, she wore a lavender blouse and khakis. She was on the phone with a friend, and held her hand over the mouthpiece. Her engagement ring—given to her by Collin’s grandfather twenty-three years ago—had a big diamond that sparkled in the light.
    Dee wasn’t his actual grandmother. Collin’s real grandmother had died after a long bout with cancer back when his mom was just a kid. His grandfather married Dee eight years later. Collin’s mom never really warmed up to Dee. She used to say Dee looked like a floozy ex-stripper. Collin thought that was pretty harsh, especially since his mom wasn’t exactly a saint or anything. Dee had always been sweet to him. Besides, she was the only grandmother he had.
    She’d been fretting and fussing over him for the last ten days. Now she was looking at him with concern. “Where are you headed?” she asked.
    Collin shrugged. “I thought I’d ride my bike to town and grab a late breakfast.”
    Dee frowned, and then put the phone to her ear. “Hold on just another second, Mary Lou. Sorry.” She covered the mouthpiece again. “I’m sorry, sweetie. If your grandfather was here to give the okay, that’s one thing. But I really don’t think you should go out alone just yet.”
    He cracked a tiny smile. “Well, it’s not like I’ll be alone, Dee. You can be sure they’ll give me a police escort.”
    Ever since the murders, an unmarked police car had been parked on Skog-Strand Lane by the front gate of his grandparents’ beachfront home. Four Seattle police detectives worked in shifts, watching the house—and watching him.
    â€œWhy go out for breakfast when I can make you perfectly delicious pancakes?” Dee asked. “Plus the fridge is crammed. Those cold cuts from the deli are in there.” Dee was always telling him what was in the refrigerator. “And we have those toaster waffles you like. . . .”
    He shrugged. “Thanks anyway, Dee. I just want to go out.”
    That much was true. But he planned to go to Hot Shots Java, where the pretty blond barista, Melissa, worked. She was a year or two older than him. On his last visit to his grandparents, when he’d stopped by the coffee shop, Melissa had complimented him on his shirt and given him a free iced latte. She’d had the sweetest smile. He’d gotten kind of tongue-tied around her. Collin hoped she still worked there. But he didn’t want to tell his grandmother that. She might think something was wrong with him for having some girl on his mind so soon after his mother’s death. The truth was, he’d been thinking about Melissa for the past few days.
    â€œI really need the exercise,” he explained. “I’m feeling kind of cooped up here lately.”
    With a sigh, she talked into the phone again. “Sorry, Mary Lou, can I call you back in a couple of minutes?”
    Slump-shouldered, Collin turned and wandered toward the breakfast table while his grandmother made another call. His grandparents’ kitchen was like something in one of those Home & Garden TV shows: hardwood floors, stainless-steel appliances, and all the new gadgets. Behind Dee was a sliding glass door to a patio—with stone stairs that led down to the beach. The late morning sun reflected across the rippled water of Liberty Bay. At least a dozen boats were out there. Collin could see he was missing a gorgeous day. He’d dressed for it, too—in cargo shorts, a blue polo shirt, and his black Converse All Stars.
    â€œHi, hon,” his grandmother said into the phone. “Sorry to interrupt your game. You weren’t late teeing off, were you? Good. Say, listen, Collin wants to ride his bike into town, and I have to admit, I’m a little