Undead and Unappreciated by MaryJanice Davidson Read Free Book Online Page B

diamond encrusted model.”
    â€œYou get out of my house,” she snapped. “You’re not supposed to be able to do that.”
    â€œTell me about it. Listen, we’re going to ask you about my dad’s other baby, and we’re not leaving until you tell us everything.”
    â€œI’m not telling you rotten dead things a single detail. You’re getting out and I’m going to sleep.”
    â€œOh,” Sinclair said, stepping forward once I’d put the popsicle sticks in my purse, “sleep will be the furthest thing from your mind in a few moments, Mrs. Taylor.”

Chapter 7
    I came back down to the living room after a refreshing five minutes of putting the Ant’s perfumes in the dryer and pushing Spin. Antonia was sitting on the far end of the couch, leaning forward, and staring raptly into Sinclair’s face. Her hands were palm down in her lap, and she was compulsively scratching at the leather, but she never looked away from his eyes.
    I felt kind of weird about this whole thing. Why, exactly, were we doing this? I wasn’t even sure how I felt about it, but here we were anyway, digging around the Ant’s substandard brain. And why was Sinclair so interested? Didn’t he have king stuff to worry about? A suit fitting somewhere? Jerk training to attend, or teach? But here he was, sitting on the denim footstool, holding the Ant’s man hands in his and getting everything out of her. Everything.
    â€œâ€¦and then I tried to get him to propose, but he wouldn’t do it, he was afraid Betsy would get mad at him if he left her mother, so we broke up.”
    â€œYes, but the baby?” Sinclair asked.
    â€œThe baby…the baby…”
    â€œMan, she is getting freaked,” Marc muttered to me. “Look at her.”
    I looked. Scratch, scratch went her nails against her leather miniskirt, and the corner of her mouth was sagging like she’d had a stroke.
    And I could smell her anxiety. It was like burning glue.
    â€œI don’t remember…”
    â€œAntonia, you remember,” Sinclair assured her. “You just haven’t thought of it in many years. On purpose. Did the baby live?”
    Her mouth hung open, and she moved her lips like she was trying to answer him, but nothing came out. Finally she groped and found Sinclair’s hands, and the rest of her sordid tale just…just poured out. Like vomit.
    â€œIt wasn’t me, it wasn’t me! I got pregnant to get married, but it didn’t work, and then the baby was here, and it wasn’t me! ” She wasn’t just yelling, she was shrieking it, screaming it, and now her nails were digging into Sinclair’s hands as she hung on for dear life. “It was supposed to work, and it didn’t work, and I didn’t know what happened, so I dropped her off…went to the hospital and left her in the lobby…nobody was around, but I knew someone would probably find her…so I put her down and never…never…”
    â€œJesus,” I said, startled.
    â€œThe last time the Ant was this upset,” Jessica whispered to me, “you came home a day early from summer camp.”
    â€œIt’s all right, Antonia,” Sinclair soothed. “Of course it wasn’t you. Who was it?”
    â€œI don’t know, I don’t know.” She bowed her head, and a dry sob escaped. “I was pregnant and then I wasn’t and the baby…the baby…”
    â€œAntonia, what day did you find out you were pregnant?”
    â€œHalloween. Nineteen eighty-five.”
    â€œAnd what day was the next day? The day you woke up and the baby was already there?”
    â€œAugust sixth, nineteen eighty-six. She was—she wasn’t a newborn. I don’t know how old she was, but she wasn’t a newborn.”
    Dead silence while we all processed this. Marc hurried to Sinclair’s side and whispered a question to