The Unwanted by John Saul Read Free Book Online Page A

like the Valley?”
    Keith said nothing for a moment, then shook his head. “Iwouldn’t have cared where you lived. I just thought—Well, it doesn’t matter now.”
    Now it was Cassie who fell silent.
He doesn’t want to talk about Mother
, she thought. Her mind drifted back to the last time she’d seen him, right after Tommy had moved out. She’d wanted to talk to him then, wanted to ask him what had happened when she was little and he’d left her mother. But she’d been afraid to. Her mother had told her often enough that all he’d do was lie to her and that she shouldn’t believe a word he said. So she hadn’t said anything at all that day. And then she’d never seen her father again.
    “You could have written to me,” she said finally.
    Keith looked at her once again. She was facing straight ahead, her eyes apparently fixed on the highway, but he could see they were glistening with tears. “I did write to you, honey,” he said quietly. “I wrote to you every month. And I sent you Christmas presents, and birthday presents too. But I never heard anything back.” Keith waited, but Cassie said nothing. “Your mother never gave them to you, did she?” he finally asked.
    Cassie hesitated, then shook her head.
    For the rest of the trip to False Harbor, neither of them said anything.
        Eric Cavanaugh was mowing the front lawn when he saw the Winslows’ station wagon pull into the farthest of the twin driveways that separated his house from the Winslows’. He waved, and was about to call out a greeting, when the passenger door opened and a girl got out.
    She looked about the same age as he was. Her face was pale, and her dark brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail, made her skin seem even whiter than it was. She was wearing a pair of red jeans, with sneakers of the same color, and had on a white blouse. As he watched, she opened the back door of the station wagon and pulled out a brown raincoat and a bulging leather bag. Though Eric couldn’t see anything about her that looked much different from all the other girls he knew, he had a distinct feeling that there was something odd about her. Then he heard Mr. Winslow speaking to him.
    “I want you to meet someone, Eric. This is my daughter, Cassie. She’s just arrived from California to live with us.Cassie, this is Eric Cavanaugh. The proverbial boy next door,” he added, winking at Eric.
    Cassie smiled shyly and held out her hand, but Eric didn’t take it. Without meaning to, he frowned slightly, still trying to place her in his mind. As their eyes met, he took an involuntary step backward. Then, remembering his manners, he recovered himself and managed a crooked grin. “H-hi,” he stammered. “I’m sorry about your mother.…” Cassie’s face turned even more pale, and as she turned and hurried toward the house, Eric wished he’d thought of something else to say. But his mind had suddenly gone blank, for as he’d looked at Cassie, something had happened to him.
    It was as if their minds had met, as if an instant connection had been made. Something within her had reached out, and something within him had responded. As he went back to his lawn mowing, the strange feeling inside him grew stronger.
    She was someone he’d been searching for, though he had been unaware that he was even searching. He knew her, knew how she felt, knew what she was thinking. For some reason he didn’t understand, he was certain that it had been the same for her.
    And in that instant, he had known something else—that Cassie Winslow didn’t truly care that her mother had died.
    But that’s stupid
, Eric told himself.
I’ve never seen her before, and I don’t know anything about her at all
.

C
hapter
3
    She looks so much older than I thought she would, Rosemary Winslow thought as the front door opened and Cassie stepped inside. But, of course, why wouldn’t she? After all, the last pictures Keith had brought back had been taken when Cassie was only eleven.