The Cathar Secret: A Lang Reilly Thriller by Gregg Loomis Read Free Book Online Page B

were going to be enhanced by his presence here at the church office.
         Over half-moon spectacles, Mrs. Jennins's watery blue eyes were shifting from Wynton to Paige and back again. "Do either of you have any idea where the child might have gotten such an image?"
         Paige darted a look to where Wynn-Three was completing a tower of gaily colored building blocks. "Not a clue. We're very careful what he watches on TV, Sesame Street and the like. The only movies he's seen were Disney animations. Certainly nothing to do with prisons."
         The older woman pursed her lips as though tasting the words. "Well, the concept had to come from somewhere in his environment."
         Wynton shook his head. "Kids just think stuff up. I'm not convinced that picture shows anything more than a striped suit or maybe a shirt."
         Mrs. Jennins impaled him with a stare. "Even so, Mr. Charles, the face is sad, reflective of unhappiness. Your son chose dark colors rather than the bright ones typical of a child Wynton's age. Neither is a good sign. Could be some unfortunate subconscious memory or a symptom of depression."
         If Wynton could have bit his tongue, he would have. What did the old bag think, that a kid's doodling was some sort of Rorschach test? How much longer was this woman going to continue with her psychological hocus-pocus? He glanced at his watch for probably the tenth time.
         Paige saw him. This time it was her eyes that were as sharp as a dagger. She turned back to Mrs. Jennins. "He doesn't seem depressed. I mean, he's just as rowdy as his playmates and seems to enjoy the same things."
         The childcare principal sniffed. "Depression isn't necessarily consistent. He could be a happy three-year-old this afternoon and miserable by bedtime. Tell me, has young Wynton had nightmares or wet the bed lately?"
         Wynton shook his head. "No."
         "Wait a minute," Paige said. "Right before Christmas, he did. Same day that he also had an accident at Lenox Square. I'd taken him to ride the Pink Pig. He was terrified of it."
         "But that was over six weeks ago," Wynton protested. "That hardly . . ."
         Mrs. Jennins nodded, her hypothesis proved. "First time you had taken him to a mall?"
         This time it was Paige who nodded. "Yes. I didn't think he was old enough before."
         "The crowds, the noises. It's enough to make an adult nervous. I'd guess all that dredged up some sort of insecurity, a feeling that maybe he wasn't getting the amount of attention he's used to, something I'd expect him to outgrow soon enough. Children need to be weaned a little bit from mommy. You were wise to enroll him here where he can learn to interact with others in an environment besides home."
         Wynton stood. "I'm glad that's resolved. Thank you so much."
         Mrs. Jennins eyed him like she might have an unruly three-year-old. "Resolved? We really haven't resolved anything." She gave Paige a knowing look. "But I know all you young lawyers are busy. I suggest you increase young Wynton's contact with other children, at the same time keeping an eye on him for anything unusual. The things you want to watch for are unexplained unhappiness, crying with no reason, antisocial conduct. We

here at St. Philip's will evaluate him from time to time as we do all our children. Perhaps this drawing is meaningless, just an aberration on the norm."
         Outside, Paige was strapping Wynn-Three into his car seat in the BMW X3 as Wynton brushed his lips across the back of her neck. "I may be a little late getting home tonight, got to make up for lost time."
         Instead of scrunching her neck into her shoulders and turning to put her arms around him, her usual response, she spun, glaring. "You were so bored! And it showed. All you wanted to do was get back to work instead of worrying about your son!"
         He jutted his chin toward Wynn-Three, a silent reminder that by long-standing agreement