Act of Evil Read Online Free PDF

grandpa’s—fine. If it weren’t so early, I know he’d love to talk to you.”
    â€œOkay, well give him a big kiss from me.”
    â€œI will, dear.”
    â€œAnd Ma . . . ?”
    â€œYes, dear.”
    â€œI love Toulouse, and teaching kids, and—well—just being out in the world on my own. But I really miss you guys. I hope that doesn’t sound too mushy?’
    â€œDarling, we miss you too. So mush away. I’ll take all I can get.”
    â€œRight on, Ma. And speaking of getting  . . .”
    â€œYes?”
    Jennifer chuckled. “Well—are you getting—?”
    â€œ Jennifer! For heaven’s sake.”
    â€œJust kidding! But what I really mean . . . Look, I’m fine; seeing Europe and having a really cool time. And I guess Grandpa’s okay too, what with the house and his precious land . . . By the way, is he still fretting about those takeover people?”
    Recalling the latest incident, Mattie felt a chill. “Yes—off and on.”
    â€œWell, it’s something to occupy him, I guess. But, Ma, it’s you I’ve been worried about.”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œWell—just having school, and Brian being—you know, like gone—and living in the middle of nowhere . . . it must be kinda lonely.”
    â€œSweetie, this is not the middle of nowhere. You’re suddenly this world traveler, so I understand how it might seem that way. But the Cowichan Valley is the most beautiful place in the world; I wouldn’t live anywhere else. As for being lonely—I just wish I had time . Dear, it’s sweet of you to worry, but I’m not pining away, believe me.”
    Jennifer laughed. “Okay, Mum, I get it!
    They continued to talk of lighter matters for a while. Then Jennifer said that her phone card was running out, so they said goodbye and broke the connection.
    It was now bright day with the robins in full blast. Mattie lay back, feeling the residue of Jennifer’s phone presence like a sweet balm. This would fade all too soon, so she was determined to enjoy it as long as possible. However, there was no longer any question of trying to sleep. She got out of bed, donned her raggedy old robe, and headed for the kitchen.
    Exiting the master bedroom—which she’d now occupied alone for twelve years—Mattie moved past Jennifer’s room. Next came the closed door of the room that had been Brian’s; for once the dull ache, always just below the threshold of attention, did not intensify. This morning, her full concentration was on the room at the far end of the hall—Fitz’s room.
    The house was over a century old, built as a colonial statement in a then-young province. Huge and solid, a West Coast echo of Arts and Crafts design, it was made of timbers the like of which, even in this wooded world, had not been seen in decades. The floor boards gave not the smallest creak, which was good, since she didn’t want to wake her father-in-law; the last thing she could handle now was a confrontation.
    Reaching his open door, she saw that she needn’t have worried. Fitz was lying fully clothed on the bed: eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth agape, as if about to give birth to a giant snore, which never came. Though the old man’s chest slowly rose and fell, he was as silent as the dead.
    Stupid, stupid! a voice muttered in her head. I wish you WERE damn dead . . .  Which, of course, she didn’t mean and had to cancel, even as a peevish thought: there had been too much death associated with this family already. What she had to do was regard the nocturnal near-disaster as a warning and bless the blind luck that had allowed her to survive it.
    Last night, after she’d recovered, calmed the drunk old coot and got him to bed, she’d taken the shotgun—which she’d not known existed till she was staring down