The Devil's Labyrinth by John Saul Read Free Book Online Page A

there’s one thing I’ve learned in dealing with kids over the last few years, it’s never to borrow trouble. And so far, there’s no evidence Kip is in any trouble.”
    “But isn’t there anything we can do?” Anne fretted. “It seems like there must be something!”
    Father Sebastian smiled at her. “Actually, there is. You can make a list of anyone Kip might have gotten in touch with, and start calling. I’m talking about all his friends from before he came to St. Isaac’s—everyone that you can think of. And give us a copy of the list so we can follow up, too.”
    “And maybe we should call the police,” Gordy said, his tone as challenging as the look in his eyes.
    “We certainly can,” Father Sebastian said, refusing to rise to Adamson’s bait. “On the other hand, given that Kip has no criminal record, the police aren’t likely to do anything at all for at least twenty-four hours, but if you want to spend most of the night answering questions, I’ll be happy to get the ball rolling.”
    Brother Francis watched as Gordy Adamson visibly deflated.
    Ten minutes later, the list of Kip’s friends and their phone numbers in hand, the two clerics left.
    “Well, we didn’t learn much there,” Brother Francis sighed as he started the car.
    “Actually, we did,” Father Sebastian replied. “We learned that Gordy Adamson is a thoroughgoing son-of-a-bitch, and that wherever Kip goes, it won’t be home.”
    As he started back toward Boston, Brother Francis decided that he liked Father Sebastian.
    He liked him a lot.

C HAPTER 7
    T ERI M C I NTYRE’S KNEES THREATENED to buckle when she saw Ryan’s battered face, ashen beneath the swelling and bruising. Tom gripped her arm to steady her as she moved to her son’s bedside. All around him was the machinery of the hospital, but blessedly he didn’t seem to be attached to more than two of them—one an I.V. drip, the other monitoring his vital signs.
    “Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, leaning close, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping, but wanting to be sure he heard if he was awake. Ryan opened his eyes and gazed at her for a moment. Then his eyes shifted to Tom Kelly, and Teri thought she saw them narrow for a split second before he let them fall closed again.
    Tom brought over a chair, and Teri sank into it, taking hold of her son’s limp hand. “Who did this?” she asked gently. “Someone from school?”
    Ryan opened his eyes again and looked at her, his swollen lips attempting a grim smile.
    “Don’t try to talk,” Teri told him. “Just nod or shake your head if it doesn’t hurt too much. Have the police talked with you?”
    Ryan nodded.
    “Do they know who did this?”
    Ryan shook his head.
    “Well, we’ll find them,” Teri assured him. “They won’t get away with this.” Her voice began to rise. “We’ll send—”
    She felt Tom’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and took a deep breath.
    Once again Ryan’s eyes opened, and now he tried to form a word with his battered mouth. Teri poured a glass of water from the plastic pitcher on his nightstand, took the wrapper off a fresh straw, and held it to his lips as he sucked weakly. Still, the little water he managed seemed to help. “Just—just forget it,” he whispered.
    Teri stared at him. “Forget it?” she echoed.
    Ryan took as deep a breath as he could, exhaling it in a rattling sigh. “It’ll just make it worse for me,” he said, struggling to pronounce each word clearly.
    “How could anything be worse than this?” Teri asked, but even as she spoke, she knew exactly what worse could look like.
    Ryan could be dead.
    As if he’d read the thought in her expression, Ryan closed his eyes and sank deeper into his pillow.
    Teri sat back in her chair, unconsciously smoothing her skirt.
How long had he lain in that bathroom?
she wondered. Had he been lying there unconscious in a pool of his own blood all the time she’d been sitting in the restaurant