John Saul by Guardian Read Free Book Online

began ringing. On the eighth ring the connection clicked and she heard Audrey’s voice.
    Her recorded voice, saying she couldn’t come to the phone right now, and to leave a message. When the electronic beep came, MaryAnne’s words tumbled from her lips in a nervous staccato: “It’s me, Aud. MaryAnne. I know this is really stupid—I just got a weird feeling—lots of weirdness going on just now—and I wanted to talk to you, right away. So I called, and you’re not even home. Dumb, huh? Anyway, I really do need to talk to you. It’s about—Alan and me. He—Oh, shit, I hate these machines! Call me in the morning, huh?”
    As she hung up the phone, she heard the kitchen door open, and turned to see Alan, naked, standing in the doorway, squinting in the glare of the kitchen lights. “MaryAnne? What are you doing? Do you know what time it is?”
    She forced a smile, her mind racing. “I—It’s just one of those women’s things. I woke up with the feeling that Audrey needs me, so I called her.”
    Alan’s lips twisted scornfully. “Audrey needs you?” he asked, his voice etched with bitterness. “What would someone who married a hundred and fifty million dollars need with you?”
    MaryAnne’s jaw tightened, and Alan instantly realized his mistake. “I’m sorry, honey,” he went on, his tone softening. “I didn’t really mean it the way it sounded. I just—”
    “Maybe you’d better just go home,” MaryAnne interrupted. “I’ve never understood how you can hate a man you don’t even know!”
    “I don’t hate him,” Alan protested. “But you have to admitthat there aren’t many problems Audrey could have that Ted’s money wouldn’t solve.”
    “I can,” MaryAnne shot back, her eyes boring into Alan’s. “How about another woman? How would his money solve a problem like that?”
    Alan looked instantly contrite. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I guess I deserved that. And I guess I deserve a lot more, too. But I want to make it right, MaryAnne. I really do. Eileen was a mistake, and I only hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday.”
    Don’t listen to him, MaryAnne told herself. Don’t believe him! He said it all when he talked about Ted’s money. Revealed so much more about himself than even he knows. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, Alan,” she said. “I just want you to—”
    “Let me stay,” Alan pleaded. “Please? Yesterday and tonight were terrific. We had a good time. Let’s not spoil it, okay? Let’s just go back to bed, and we’ll talk in the morning. We’ll send the kids off bowling or something, and then we’ll talk. Just you and me, MaryAnne. If we really try, I know we can straighten this mess out.”
    He slipped his arms around her, and once more she felt the familiar strength of his body, the reassuring croon of his voice.
    And, once again, she felt her resolve to send him home fade away. “All right,” she sighed, more in resignation than agreement. “Let’s go back to bed. But tomorrow we talk. About all of it.”
    Twenty minutes later, though, when Alan had fallen back into a deep sleep, MaryAnne left her bed again, went to the living room, turned on a light, and picked up a book.
    Sleep, despite the lateness of the hour, was the last thing on her mind.
    “I think maybe you better come with me, Gillie,” Rick Martin told his wife as he pulled the uniform he’d taken off only a few hours earlier back onto his large frame. “I don’t know what’s going on up there, but Joey sounded scared, and Bill Sikes isn’t home.”
    His wife, who was as small as he was large, and as blondas he was dark, was way ahead of him. She had dressed while listening to Rick’s end of his disjointed conversation with Joey Wilkenson, then made them both a cup of coffee while Rick called the station and spoke to his assistant deputy, Tony Moleno, telling him to meet him at El Monte Ranch. She handed him a steaming mug, unable to read the expression