I Shall Not Want Read Online Free PDF Page A

and claim to be her husband so he could gain access and protect her from the serial killer.
    “Oh, my gosh! He is not my boyfriend!”
    “Ah, but you admit I’m your husband?”
    He could hear her spluttering on the phone. “You’re impossible.”
    “So, seriously, you’re not dating Joseph? I was calling to congratulate you.”
    “No. Unfortunately, the Gazette isn’t the only one that’s got that picture and caption. The L.A. Times has it too.”
    “Ouch.”
    “Tell me about it. My mom called this morning and wanted to know why I hadn’t told her.”
    “Good luck dealing with that.”
    “Thanks. You okay?”
    “I’m fine,” he said. “Just getting ready for services.”
    “That’s right. Good luck to you too.”
    “Why, do you know something I don’t?”
    “If I did, you’d be the first to know.”
    “Thanks, that’s very comforting,” he said.

    Jeremiah made it through services and realized he wasn’t in the mood to go home. He drove to the park, not bothering to change his clothes. Instead of taking his usual run, he decided to just walk, breathe in deeply, and try to find some peace after the events of the day before.
    The air was crisp and clean, and he was able to focus on the environment around him and the physical sensations of the ground beneath his feet, the wind against his face, and the smell of the earth and the trees.
    He saw a couple of people from his synagogue, and he smiled as he walked past. He turned inward toward a part of the park with denser trees and fewer people enjoying the space. He saw a man sitting on a bench, rocking back and forth with his head in his hands. His clothes were tattered,his hair unkempt, and at his feet sat a German shepherd who looked at him adoringly.
    For a split second Jeremiah thought it was one of the homeless people participating in the program, and then he realized he had not seen the dog the night before. Suddenly, the man lifted his head and stared right at Jeremiah. The hair on the back of Jeremiah’s neck stood on end as he realized there was something hauntingly familiar about the eyes that looked back at him, that widened in recognition. He was looking at a ghost. The ghost leaped to his feet, took a step forward like he meant to address him, and then turned and ran.
    Jeremiah jumped forward, intent on pursuit so that he could get a better look at the phantom. After a half dozen steps he forced himself to stop. He stood, hands clenched into fists at his side, his entire body strung so tightly the muscles quivered. The dog had leaped up and followed after his master.
    Jeremiah watched them go and wondered if his eyes had deceived him or if he knew that man from another time and place. Either way, it wasn’t good.

    Mark hated working on Saturdays. His wife wasn’t too pleased about it, either. She had already called twice to inform him that if he was late for dinner there would be trouble. He couldn’t blame her; it wasn’t easy being the wife of a detective. Sometimes his job was all-consuming as he strove to put killers behind bars. She was left home alone waiting for him.
    They had talked about having kids, but they weren’t ready. Still, she needed someone to keep her company when he wasn’t there. He had been thinking for a while about getting her a dog. She had grown up with dogs, but the two of them had never had one. Watching the dogs being adopted the nightbefore had pushed the idea to the forefront of his mind and all but convinced him it was the right decision.
    He glanced at his watch. He needed to get going. He stood up from his desk, put on his jacket, and started walking toward the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Paul leap to his feet and head in his direction, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.
    “Am I going to like this?” Mark asked.
    “No. Neither is your wife. If you want, I’ll call and tell her you’ll be home late.”
    “Please tell me we at least got a break in the case.”
    “I