An Adrien English Mystery: The Dark Tide by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online

sand out from my under my feet, nearly knocking me over. I needed to lie down. Now.
    I said, “I'll be upstairs.”
    “Are you okay?”
    I nodded. I didn't feel okay, though. I felt nauseated, with a combination of reaction and exhaustion. I just wanted peace and quiet while I lay perfectly flat and perfectly still in an imitation of the corpse I felt like.
    “Do you need any help?”
    I shook my head impatiently and went upstairs. The cat appeared out of nowhere, springing along beside me—and again, nearly underfoot—equally happy to escape to the privacy of our quarters.
    Closing the door behind me, I staggered into the bedroom. I kicked my shoes off and flopped down on the bed.
    The next thing I knew, Natalie was bending over me saying, “ Adrien ?”
    I blinked up at her worried face. “What?”
    “I've been calling and calling you. Are you all right?”
    “Yeah.” The lamp was on; the corners of the room were in shadow. I wiped the corners of my eyes with the heels of my hands and sat up. “What time is it?”
    “Seven.” She was frowning. “Have you been sleeping this whole time? Are you sure you're all right?”
    “Of course I'm sure.”
    “The police finally finished downstairs.”
    I pushed myself to my feet. “Is Alonzo waiting to talk to me?”
    “No. They've left.”

    24
    Josh Lanyon

    “ Left? Without talking to me? What did they say?”
    “Nothing. Do you want me to go pick up something for dinner?”
    Dinner? The cops had shut us down, and she was worried about dinner?
    I sank down on the edge of the bed again, trying to understand. “They didn't say anything about what they found?”
    “They—that asshole in charge—said we can't open the store tomorrow.”
    “The hell we can't.”
    She was shaking her head. “I don't think you should push him, Adrien. I have a feeling he's dying for a reason to hassle you. He tried to insist that you had to vacate the premises.”
    “Oh really ?” I said dangerously, rising again.
    “It's okay,” she said quickly. “You don't have to do anything. Everything's been taken care of for you.”
    “What?”
    “I called Daddy, and he called the chief of police, and the final decision was Detective Asshole can't make you leave, but he does get to make the call about when the shop can open again.” She smiled reassuringly. “As you can imagine, Daddy had a thing or two to say ab—”
    “Goddamn it. I don't need your daddy running interference for me.” I heard the echo of that in the harsh silence that followed my interruption.
    “I”—her expression was stricken—“I was trying to help.”
    What was I doing? None of this was her fault. I was lucky to have her. Lucky to have Bill Dauten willing to go to the mat for me. And he would. He'd do anything for Lisa and, by extension, me.
    “I know you were. I don't even know why I said that.” I didn't know how to explain the raw compound of frustration and resentment that surfaced lately when I least expected it. “I'm sorry. It's not that I'm not grateful. I am. Truly.”
    Natalie was still hurt, still waiting for me to say whatever it was that would make her understand why I was being such a prick when she and everyone else were doing their best to take care of me. I offered lamely, “I thought I'd be feeling better by now.”
    About a lot of things.
    She softened. “I know. The doctors said you'd be up and down. Like an emotional roller coaster. They told us what to watch for.”
    I resisted the temptation to undo my apology by throttling her. “Uh, yeah.”
    Bucking for sainthood, she volunteered, “Would you like me to make you something to eat?”
    Natalie's cooking skills were even worse than my own, so it was a truly noble gesture. Or revenge. I shook my head. “I'll figure something out.”
    “Like what?”
    “I don't know. Soup,” I said irritably. “Tuna. I'll find something. What did the cops say?”
    “Why don't you come home tonight?” she coaxed. “Lisa said she'll