Possessions by Judith Michael Read Free Book Online Page A

up?”
    â€œOh, foster parents, but we meant we wanted a loving family. The Driscolls fed and clothed him but they didn’t—”
    â€œThe Driscolls? That was the name he gave you?”
    The note in his voice stopped her. “Do you know them?”
    â€œMy cousin and I used to play a game—that we were kidnaped and gave our kidnapers such a hard time they paid us to escape from them. We made it up from an O’ Henry story we liked, called ‘The Ransom of Red Chief.’ One of the kidnapers in the story, and in our game, was named Driscoll.”
    In the silence Katherine heard the pounding of her heart. It’s because he’s so serious, she thought; he makes these coincidences sound more important than they are. “I’m not interested in your childhood games,” she said, making a move to stand up. “And if that’s all you have to say, you’ll really have to leave. We have so many things to do—”
    â€œYou have nothing to do but wait,” Ross said coldly. “Look, damn it, I don’t like this any better than you do. I didn’t even want to come up here—I thought it was a waste of time—but now I have the damndest feeling that it’s not. In any event, there are too many things I can’t explain, and I don’t like loose ends. I’d think you wouldn’t either; don’t you want to know the truth? I want your help; whatever you can give me—”
    â€œI can’t give you anything!”
    â€œPhotographs. Letters. A diary. Didn’t your husband have a desk? Craig always had one at home, with everything sorted out, alphabetized, organized into neat packs held with rubber bands or pieces of string that he’d collect and wind around his finger—”
    â€œSo what?” Katherine cried. “Millions of people organize their desks that way!”
    â€œOr,” he went on, watching her. “You can tell me what you thought when you looked at this picture. Todd. Is that right? I think it is; when I first saw him, I thought I was looking at Craig at that age. Craig and I grew up together; he was only two years older—that would make him thirty-seven now; is that your husband’s age?—and we were as close as brothers, especially since neither of us liked Derek, who really is my brother. Derek is one year older than I. We all came in a rush, as Victoria liked to say. Jennifer, too: if she’d lived, she’d be thirty-three now. And Todd is the image of Craig at seven or eight. Which is he?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œTodd. Is he seven or eight?”
    â€œEight.” Katherine walked to the arch that led to the entrance hall. Through the open front door she saw Todd and Jennifer sitting cross-legged on the grass, not talking, not moving. Waiting. For their father, for news of their father, for something to happen. She shivered. Something was happening. She turned back to Ross, thinking that she liked his face, its strong lines, the steady, absorbed way he looked at her, his smile when he talked about his grandmother. Briefly she wished they could like each other, because she had no one to talk to. No one had called, no one had come by, not even Sarah Murphy, since the newspaper story about the embezzlement had appeared two days ago. But there was no way Ross could be their friend.
    â€œI want you to leave,” she said again. He was silhouetted against the wall of windows and she could not see his face; when he did not answer she went on. “You’ve told me your story, this crazy story that you’re determined to believe, no matter what I think. Well, I’ll tell you what I think. I’m sure there was a Craig Hayward who resembles my son, but it’s just a coincidence and that’s your problem, not mine. I married Craig Fraser, I’ve lived with him for ten years and I know him. You can’t walk in here and tell me I don’t know my own