When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [43]
“When did this happen?” he asked. He didn’t want to interrogate Frannie, but he had to know what she had seen. A little girl with wings? Experiments on humans? What kind of experiments? What was happening out here?
“You believe me?” Frannie said, and did a double take. She looked surprised, and then pleased.
He thought that when she looked at him like that he could probably believe the earth was flat, the moon was made of blue cheese, that there was such a thing as unconditional love at first sight, and happy endings, and little girls who could fly.
“I do believe you, Frannie,” he repeated.
“Good, because I saw the girl twice.”
Frannie looked like a young girl herself as she recounted both sightings in the most vivid detail, with great enthusiasm and obvious emotion. Her arms actually flapped when she described the girl and recounted how she had flown. Her eyes were huge as saucers, and she was talking even faster than she usually did. She didn’t frown at him once.
In fact her innocence and exuberance made Kit want to tell her everything he knew, things he shouldn’t tell anyone about the case, but especially not a woman whose husband might have been involved. I shouldn’t lie to Frannie, though. Not ever again. Lying to Frannie isareally bad thing to do, he told himself.
“Listen, first thing tomorrow morning,” he finally said. “We’ll go and look for the girl. We’ll look together. We’ll find her.”
“So you really do believe me?” Frannie asked. She continued to look incredulous, and maybe even a little needy.
“I really do,” Kit said. He gave her a big wink. “And I’m trained to know whether or not somebody is lying.”
Then Kit reached out for Frannie, took her into his arms, and he gently, gently kissed her in their quiet corner of the bar.
And Frannie O’Neill finally did surprise him—she kissed him back.
Book Three
FOUR AND TWENTY
BLACKBIRDS, BAKED IN A
PIE
Chapter 44
THE SOUND OF SHATTERING GLASS interrupted the quiet of the house in the upscale suburb of Denver. The sudden noise jolted Dr. Richard Andreossi from his peaceful slumber.
Baby Sam was asleep across his chest, both of them having dozed off for a mid-afternoon nap. Sweet dreams of the best kind, visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads.
More glass rained and clattered to the hardwood floor. Jesus, the sound was coming from the study.
Dr. Andreossi carefully lifted Sam off his chest, so that he didn’t wake. He laid the infant boy in a nest of couch cushions.
“Be right back, Sam the Man,” he whispered. “You just sleep. Hush, baby, hush.”
Richard Andreossi had been meaning to cut down a branch that was banging at the window of the study. He’d been too busy, too tired out by the newborn and his responsibilities as a father. Forty-seven-year-old softies aren’t built for this, he knew, but Megwin had desperately wanted a baby and now there was no looking back.
He hoisted his blue-plaid Gap boxers up around his ample waist. Stepped into his scuffed-up, off-white sneakers. He heard another crash. Sounded like a lamp going over! What the hell?
Had an animal gotten inside? Squirrel? A small bird? He quickly shuffled his sneakered feet down the hall, looked into the room.
It took him a couple of confused seconds to comprehend what he saw, and even then he didn’t completely understand.
A tall, well-muscled man dressed in a hooded, gray running suit and Nikes was methodically dropping things onto the floor, making a huge mess in the study. The mess seemed calculated. The man was doing this on purpose. Dr. Andreossi recognized who it was.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Andreossi finally asked. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
The intruder had knocked half the heavy books and loose papers off the antique rolltop desk. Dr. Andreossi could feel sweat rolling down the back of his neck, his sides.
He gauged the distance to the intruder. He was worried about his own safety,