Free An Adrien English Mystery: The Dark Tide by Josh Lanyon Page B

discuss?” I asked cautiously.
    “You moving into the Porter Ranch house.”
    I peered more closely at her. “That was like…two years ago.”
    She said brightly, “Then you've had plenty of time to think about it. The house is perfect for you. It's quiet and private, and it has the swimming pool, which would be so good for you now. The doc—”
    “It's sort of big for one, don't you think?”
    “It won't always be one.” She was giving me that maternal look that always raised the hair on the back of my neck.
    “That's true. I do have a cat now.”
    She laughed her silvery laugh, and I knew I'd better not encourage her.
    “I appreciate the thought. I can't afford a new house and a bookstore renovation.”
    To my horror, Bill looked up out of his paper and said, “You can have the house, Adrien.
    Your mother and I already discussed it. It would put Lisa's mind at ease.”
    I made a sound that generally precedes having a doctor inspect your tonsils and managed feebly, “It's too far from the bookstore.”
    “Darling, you don't need to live over the bookstore.”
    “No, but I like living over the bookstore.”
    “But living over the bookstore is hardly conducive to developing a healthier lifestyle and more-sensible work habits, which is what the doctors warned you has to happen, or you're going to be right back where you were.”
    I said to the others, “Is this better than reality TV or what?”

    40
    Josh Lanyon

    Emma made a squeaky sound that was probably a laugh swallowed in the nick of time.
    “Adrien, you need to take this seriously.”
    “Serious as a heart attack,” I assured her.
    Her face tightened. “That's hardly amusing, under the circumstances.”
    “If it has a pool, why can't we move there?” Emma inquired.
    “ There ,” I said, pointing at her. “Excellent idea.”
    “Oh, Adrien.” Lisa abandoned the discussion.
    Another round of cocktails was served, and plans for dinner got under way. I felt that peculiar, inevitable restlessness again.
    To Lisa's displeasure—and my surprise—Lauren asked if I wanted to go home. I hardened my heart against Lisa's and Emma's obvious disappointment and admitted I did. It wasn't merely the fatigue, although it continued to worry me how tired I was all the time. I had a strange sense of missing something, of being in the wrong place—no matter where I was.
    I said my good-byes, and Lauren drove me back to Pasadena. “Thanks for the intervention,” I said when we were on our way.
    She brushed it off. “I know how it is when you need quiet to think things out.”
    I remembered her impending divorce. She probably did know. For all that Lauren seemed to agree with the other womenfolk that she was doing the right thing, I got the feeling she was in a lot of pain.
    We reached the bookstore. I thanked Lauren again, lifted a hand in farewell, and let myself into the big, empty building.
    It was warm and very still inside. The heady scent of old books floated with the dust motes in the fading light. Old and used books have a particular scent—very different from new books.
    That evening it was a mix of old leather, worn cloth, crumbling paper, and wood polish. It smelled like home. I couldn't imagine willingly leaving Cloak and Dagger ever. Maybe they could stick me under the floorboards when I was done.
    I walked over to the plastic wall dividing the bookstore from the other half of the building.
    There was no sign that the cops had been there during the day. No sign anyone had. Perhaps that was good news.
    I went upstairs and unlocked my flat. It was too warm and stuffy upstairs, a bit too redolent of cat. I opened the windows to catch whatever evening breeze there was.
    What had been the rush to get here again? Everything was exactly as I'd left it. As it would always be.
    I sat down on the sofa, and Tomkins leaped onto the cushion beside me, rubbing his face against my arm.
    “Miss me?”
    Apparently so. Well, there was no accounting for taste; I'd