A Will and a Way by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online Page A

Three
    T he streets are almost deserted. A car turns a corner and disappears. It’s drizzling. Neon flashes off puddles. It’s garish rather than festive. There’s a gray, miserable feel to this part of the city. Alleyways, cheap clubs, dented cars. The small, neatly dressed blonde walks quickly. She’s nervous, out of her element, but not lost. Close-up on the envelope in her hands. It’s damp from the rain. Her fingers open and close on it. Tires squeal off screen and she jolts. The blue lights of the club blink off and on in her face as she stands outside. Hesitates. Shifts the envelope from hand to hand. She goes in. Slow pan of the street. Three shots and freeze.
    Three knocks sounded at the door of Michael’s office. Before he could answer, Pandora swirled in. “Happy anniversary, darling.”
    Michael looked up from his typewriter. He’d been up most of the night working the story line out in his mind. It was nine in the morning, and he’d only had one cup of coffee to prime him for the day. Coffee and cigarettes together were tooprecious a memory. The scene that had just jelled in his mind dissolved.
    “What the hell are you talking about?” He reached his hand into a bowl of peanuts and discovered he’d already eaten all but two.
    “Two full weeks without any broken bones.” Pandora swooped over to him, clucked her tongue at the disorder, then chose the arm of a chair. It was virtually the only free space. She brushed at the dust on the edge of the table beside her and left a smear. “And they said it wouldn’t last.”
    She looked fresh with her wild mane of red pulled back from her face, comfortable in sweater and slacks that were too big for her. Michael felt like he’d just crawled out of a cave. His sweatshirt had ripped at the shoulder seam two years before, but he still favored it. A few weeks before, he’d helped paint a friend’s apartment. The paint smears on his jeans showed her preference for baby pink. His eyes felt as though he’d slept facedown in the sand.
    Pandora smiled at him like some bright, enthusiastic kindergarten teacher. She had a fresh, clean, almost woodsy scent. “We have a rule about respecting the other’s work space,” he reminded her.
    “Oh, don’t be cranky.” It was said with the same positive smile. “Besides, you never gave me any schedule. From what I’ve noticed in the past couple of weeks, this is early for you.”
    “I’m just starting the treatment for a new episode.”
    “Really?” Pandora walked over and leaned over his shoulder. “Hmm,” she said, though she wondered who had shot whom. “Well, I don’t suppose that’ll take long.”
    “Why don’t you go play with your beads?”
    “Now you’re being rude when I came up here to invite you to go with me into town.” After brushing off the sleeve of her sweater, she sat on the edge of the desk. She didn’t know exactly why she was so determined to be friendly. Maybe it was because the emerald necklace was nearly finished and was exceeding even her standards. Maybe it was because in the past two weeks she’d found a certain enjoyment in Michael’s company. Mild enjoyment, Pandora reminded herself. Nothing to shout about.
    Suspicious, Michael narrowed his eyes. “What for?”
    “I’m going in for some supplies Sweeney needs.” She found the turtle shell that was his lampshade intriguing, and ran her fingers over it. “I thought you might like to get out for a while.”
    He would. It had been two weeks since he’d seen anything but the house and grounds. He glanced back at the page in his typewriter. “How long will you be?”
    “Oh, two, three hours I suppose.” She moved her shoulders. “It’s an hour’s round trip to begin with.”
    He was tempted. Free time and a change of scene. But the half-blank sheet remained in his typewriter. “Can’t. I have to get this fleshed out.”
    “All right.” Pandora rose from the desk a bit surprised by the degree of disappointment