Simple by Kathleen George Read Free Book Online Page A

them?”
    â€œOh. Yeah. I went in the late afternoon.” She made a face.
    â€œIt was awful?”
    â€œYes. It turned out there were also three younger sisters to tell. It was tough going. They were nice people,” she said. She sat back in her chair, smiled at him. “If Bible thumpers are ever nice, these thumpers were nice. They fell apart, and it was … upsetting. Then they all clasped hands, kind of like a prayer circle. The younger sisters were all gorgeous. Every one.”
    â€œThat’ll make the media happy.”
    â€œYeah. You got that right.” She gestured toward him. “Wow, are you suntanned. You got a lot of sun.”
    â€œYep. Then it started raining.”
    â€œYou must have relaxed.”
    â€œIn my fashion.”
    â€œWe didn’t expect you back until Monday. We thought you’d get in Sunday night.”
    â€œWe left early because of the rain.”
    â€œBummer.”
    â€œI pushed and did the whole drive today. Fourteen hours.”
    â€œI’d say you’re pretty tired.”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œYou got curious about this case.” She laughed.
    â€œYou know it. You have any ideas about it?”
    â€œNo. Wallet is missing. Also apparently a cell phone. The usual theories. In spite of the theft, which might not be a theft, of course, Coleson and McGranahan are pretty hot on the handyman.”
    â€œSo long as you all run everything. Cover all the bases.” He yawned.
    â€œI think they will,” she said carefully. “You should get some sleep.”
    â€œRight. Couple of hours will do wonders. I’ll check back in the morning.”
    Christie wondered if he was losing his smarts, his instincts. He’d always relied on his intuitive abilities. Cal Hathaway. Was he wrong about him? He’d only seen him briefly. What, twenty seconds. Hathaway was supposedly slow —a person who needed a longer processing time than most people did. He knew nothing else about him.
    He went home and climbed into bed. Marina had managed to put the kitchen things away, but the suitcases and other beach paraphernalia sat in piles in the living room. She was out. Exhausted. He counted some sheep, worked on the family budget by calculating things in his head, which he was still good at, thought about how happy his children had been playing in the waves, that is, when they could get waves—which wasn’t all the time, Cape Cod being less surf-friendly than New Jersey.
    He managed to drift off.
    *   *   *
    ELINOR SAID TO THE woman at the desk, “I need to see my boy. Calvin Hathaway. I called his house. He must still be here.”
    â€œYes. He’s here. I’m Detective Littlefield. Are you a witness to the investigation?”
    â€œI guess I am.”
    â€œDid you see anything?”
    â€œNothing like that. I was at work. Cal is my son, and I’m worried he’s not all right.”
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œHe can’t take stress. I’m serious. He can’t take it.”
    â€œIt isn’t easy on anybody.”
    â€œThat’s not what I mean.”
    â€œI’ll call the detectives. Would you sit? Can I get you something?”
    â€œNo, nothing.”
    â€œWater?”
    â€œYes, water.”
    Elinor watched the lady detective pour water from a cooler. The woman brought it to her, patted her hand, and said, “Now you wait just a moment.”
    Two men wearing ties came out of a room. Was that where her son was? Elinor stood to walk toward the room, but they stopped her. “Just a minute. Are you Mrs. Hathaway?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWe’re glad you came. We want to talk to you.”
    The woman detective who had greeted her told them, “Greer is finished. Conference room is free.”
    â€œGood, good. You have water?” The man who asked her this was trying to sound polite. He looked tired. “Follow me.”
    The