Deep in the Darkness Read Online Free PDF

busy folding up the rectangular package of tobacco, and when that was done he placed it alongside the pipe on the table; apparently this was a pleasure he'd planned to savor after we left.
    "Yep," he said, taking a sip of iced tea. "Neil was a dear friend. Real crying shame what'd happened to him." Three glasses half-filled with tea sat on the red gingham-checked cloth that covered the kitchen table. On the gas stove behind them was a clear pitcher filled halfway with green tea and lemons. A jar of honey in the shape of a bear was nestled alongside it like a clinging baby. There were hero sandwiches on the table (well, heroes if you're from New Yawk; subs if you're a New Hampshire-ite); Christine had a half-eaten sandwich before her, and even Jessica nibbled on a piece of bread. My stomach immediately protested its hunger, so I sat down in the open seat and helped myself to half a turkey and cheese sub. Christine and Phillip discussed the local amenities Ashborough had to offer, like the shops in town square and the sprawling grasses of Beaumont Park. I stayed mostly silent, keeping to my sandwich, and started to feel a bit better now that I had some food in me. Amazing how hunger can set irrationality into a man. Once sated, my confrontation with Mrs. Deighton didn't seem so scary after all. Still, I wasn't all that thrilled being in the same house with her—much less having to make another house-call someday, appointment or not.
    "You take care of that foot, Michael?" Deighton asked.
    I nodded. "I don't think we'll need to amputate."
    Deighton broke out in laughter. Christine had heard me use that one a few dozen times, so she just rolled her eyes. Jessica sipped the green tea (it was a brightly odd color for tea) and offered up a long winey Daaaad! She didn't think it was funny either. The joke was meant for Phillip anyway.
    Phillip kept his eyes on his glass, then poked back and forth between Jessica and Christine. I'd hoped to lock gazes with him, to see if I could catch a bit of accountability in his eyes for sending me the wrong way at the head of the stairs. But he kept purposefully stoic, then went right on talking about Neil Farris.
    "The Farris family lived here long before we came to town, and this is going back now twenty-seven years. He'd been there for over forty years, and from what I understand, he replaced the last physician who'd also lived at 17 Harlan Road, and that one had been there for a good number of years as well. So you see, there's a long history of physicians in that house, at least a hundred years worth. I reckon that if you look even beyond that, you might even find some more doctors that used to live there, but that's just a guess. Emily Farris was a good woman, a close and dear friend to Rosy. She used to come by here every other day just to say hello and check in to see how Rosy was coming along. Needless to say, Rosy is quite upset with the sudden and rather disconcerting change of events. The moment Neil Farris checked into that old folks' home in the sky, she not only lost a neighbor in Emily, but lost her only friend."
    "Your wife..." I inquired.
    For the first time, Deighton looked me right in the eyes.
    "Rosy...that's her name?" I asked.
    "Yep, named after her grandmother. Short for Rosalia."
    I nodded then said, "You mentioned earlier that she was looking forward to meeting me."
    "Yep, she sure is...but she's sleeping now." He said this in a curt, almost insinuating tone, as if accusing me of secretly slipping into the sanctuary of their bedroom to investigate his wife's whereabouts.
    There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, a rare occurrence given the fact that both Jessica and Page were in the room. Finally I said, "Well, as her new physician, I too am looking forward to meeting her." Such a liar.
    Deighton smiled, a rather forced grin I thought. He then said, "I do need to get her medication to her."
    That was our cue. Or our green light, depending how you looked at it. "And we