Dead But Not Forgotten by Charlaine Harris Read Free Book Online Page A

was waved through the gate. He said nothing to the guard about the circumstances of his visit but sensed the man’s uneasiness. Would he call ahead and alert the administration that a big, bald, pissed-off were had arrived? Quinn thought he might.
    The grounds were a lovely, rolling green, with flowers around the base of each tree and around the Roman fountain at the center of the lawn. Quinn inhaled the many rich scents of the place, and it calmed him a bit. He was here now. They could dodge him on the telephone but they couldn’t ignore his physical presence. The time had come for his questions to be answered.
    The home had a valet, but he ignored the service and parked the car himself. It tweeted as he thumbed the locking mechanism, and he headed for the ornate front steps without looking back.
    â€œGood afternoon, sir,” a well-groomed young man said as Quinn walked through the door. He sat behind a desk, pompous and proper, as if he were a concierge instead of an ordinary clerk. “Can I help you?”
    Quinn glanced around the marble lobby with its churchlike vaulted ceilings and studied the residents being slowly escorted here and there. He examined the faces of doctors and nurses and physical therapists and recognized none of them, which wasn’t a huge surprise, since he’d only visited his mother there twice before. To his knowledge, his sister, Frannie, who waited tables out in New Mexico, had never bothered.
    â€œMy name’s John Quinn,” he said. “I’m here to see my mother.”
    â€œYes, sir,” the clerk said with a broad smile. “And her name?”
    â€œQuinn. You have a lot of Quinns here?”
    The clerk—the little plastic tag on his chest identified him as Andrew—smiled more thinly. Even less convincingly than before.
    â€œI don’t know, sir. Let me just look her up for you,” Andrew said, tapping away at his computer keyboard. After a moment, his eyes lit up. “Ah, yes, sir. According to her schedule she’s in physical therapy at the moment. I’ll call up and let them know you’re here, if you’d just like to take a seat.”
    Quinn’s pulse thundered at his temples. He breathed deeply, rising to his full six and a half feet, and glared at the clerk. Women always seemed to love the purple of his eyes, but when he was angry they grew darker, almost black.
    â€œYou know, most days I’m as polite as can be,” he said, “but I won’t be taking a seat today.”
    The clerk blinked nervously. “Sir?”
    Quinn sniffed the air, breathed deeply again. He frowned as he glanced once more around the lobby. Then he stared at the desk clerk.
    â€œYou’re human.”
    Andrew nodded vigorously. More blinking. “Yes, sir.”
    â€œThe old place was staffed by two-natureds. When I was at Evergreen last, the same was true here. Now I smell humans all over the place. What is going on?”
    The clerk gave a sheepish shrug. “It’s becoming more and more common, Mr. Quinn. Ever since weres went public and piqued the curiosity of humans, we get volunteers. People are intrigued and want to help.”
    Quinn snarled. “Gawkers. That’s what you’re talking about.”
    â€œNo, sir. Psychologists and nutritionists and orderlies and physician assistants, even a doctor or two.”
    Quinn waved him away. “I want to see my mother, and I want to see her now. I’ve been calling for days and am constantly told she’s sleeping or in PT or in the bath or out on the grounds with her minders.”
    â€œBad timing, I suppose,” Andrew offered. “And again today, sir. But if you’ll take a seat, I’ll have my supervisor come down and speak with—”
    Quinn brought his fist down on the desk hard enough that a cup of pens spilled over and the surface cracked, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the lobby.
    â€œBullshit!” he