Delaney's Shadow

Delaney's Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: Delaney's Shadow Read Online Free PDF
Author: Ingrid Weaver
Tags: Fiction, paranormal romance, EPUB, romantic suspense, mobi, shadow
off not remembering?
    Delaney choked back a sob. If the incident didn’t indicate insanity, then trying to explain it could drive her there. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to bring it back to normal.
    There had to be a simple explanation for the . . . the hallucination. It might have been a vivid, fever-dream kind of phenomenon. It could be hotter out here than she’d thought. It was only mid-June, but the humidity could be a factor, especially to someone who hadn’t spent much time outdoors lately. Or it could be even simpler than that. Her blood sugar might be too low, and she’d slipped into a semi-doze when she’d started to relax. Yes, that seemed plausible. She should have taken her grandmother’s advice and eaten a muffin.
    A hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.
    Still strung tight, Delaney cried out and jerked away from the touch.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    A man in navy blue coveralls stood in front of her. His eyebrows were bushy and steel-colored, as was the hair that poked out from beneath his John Deere baseball cap. His face bore the kind of deep creases due more to weather than to age. He peered at her with wary concern, his brown eyes looking familiar . . .
    Once again, the present merged with a vision from the past, only this man was real. “Edgar?” Delaney asked.
    He nodded, a curt, energy-conserving motion of his chin.
    Edgar Pattimore had been a frequent sight around the place in the old days. Each fall when the rain gutters had needed cleaning or the porch had needed painting, Edgar’s blue pickup truck with the toolbox and ladders would clatter up the driveway. He’d seemed ancient to her when she’d been a child, probably because he’d been friends with her grandfather, yet he didn’t appear to be much past Helen’s age.
    Or Stanford’s.
    The realization shocked her. She didn’t know why it should. Age had been irrelevant when it came to her feelings for her husband.
    Delaney got to her feet and combed her hair from her face with her fingers. It took a second to remember there wasn’t enough hair to comb. It took several more to register the fact that her hands were shaking. She retrieved her sun hat from the ground and set it back on her head. “You might not remember me, Edgar. I’m—”
    “Deedee,” he said. “Your grandmother said you were coming.”
    He was the second person in the space of an hour to call her by the childhood name. The third, if she counted Max.
    But Max wasn’t real. So he didn’t count. Or maybe he did, because he was a product of her subconscious mind . . .
    Enough already , she told herself. Contacting Max had been an experiment. It hadn’t worked. Time to move on. “Yes, I arrived here yesterday.” The wind picked up, moving the boughs overhead. A shaft of sunlight struck her cheek, and she adjusted the brim of her hat to protect it. “The place looks wonderful,” she said, gesturing around the yard. “I should have realized that you’d still be helping out.”
    “My nephew takes care of the heavy work now, but I do what I can.” He slapped the work gloves he was holding against his leg, knocking off a shower of dirt. An electric hedge trimmer dangled from his other hand. “You didn’t see anyone else out here, did you?”
    She started. “What do you mean?” Her voice sounded shriller than she’d intended. She took a calming breath. “Uh, no, other than those girls and their mother. Why?”
    Edgar used his chin to point toward the small wooden structure that was nestled beside the hedge on the far side of the roses. “Some of the stuff inside the garden shed was moved around. Looks like someone was inside before I got here.”
    “Was anything taken?”
    “Nope. Besides the tools and a few bags of fertilizer, the only thing worth stealing’s the lawn tractor, but it’s still there.”
    “It could have been kids.”
    “I suppose. I don’t like to think someone’s been snooping around.
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