Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evie Read Online Free PDF Page A

family, anybody who sided with the bastard was on his personal Enemies List, and that included the slightly sumptuous, gutsy as hell Evie Randall.
    As Max climbed the porch steps, Edmunds swung open the French doors, their ancient hinges squealing against the effort. Carrying Evie into the parlor, he carefully set her on a tan brocade sofa.
    Edmunds made a hasty exit, then reappeared with a first aid kit and a blanket. Behind him, a young woman carried a water pitcher, glasses, and a clean washcloth.
    “This is Lorna Whitney,” Edmunds said quickly as the woman set the tray on the end table. “Lorna, this is Detective Max Galloway of the Olympia Police Department.”
    Lorna seemed a bit confused, then nodded a greeting and stepped back. Her brown eyes filled with concern when she got a good look at Evie. “What on earth … ”
    Evie blinked up at Max, her summer blue eyes clouded with pain. Turning to Edmunds, he said, “When I arrived today, I saw a big Hatteras in the boathouse. How many knots does that son of a bitch make?”
     
     
    T hey made the trip across the bay to the hospital in Port Henry on the sixty-five-foot luxury yacht Heyworth had kept to ferry guests to and from the island. By the time Max got Evie back to Mayhem, the sun had just begun creeping up behind the mansion, casting the elegant lines of the house in dark silhouette.
    The news had been good—no concussion, nothing broken, just cuts and bruises that should heal quickly, and a headache, a little rest, and some painkillers would alleviate.
    Despite her protests, Max carried Evie to her bedroom, then asked Edmunds to have his things moved to the room adjacent to hers. If she hadn’t been woozy from painkillers, he was certain she would have put up a helluva fight—which he may even have enjoyed under different circumstances.
    He left Evie with Lorna, who would help her bathe, wash her hair, and settle her in for some much needed sleep. Heading swiftly down the hallway, his footfalls absorbed by the thick rust-colored carpet, he shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring the fine landscapes and pieces of art lining the walls of the long corridor. His mind was on that barn floor, the rotted wood, and how it had nearly cost a young woman her life.
    As he approached the barn, the llamas in the pen raised their heads and blinked at him, then moved forward to investigate. He walked past them, opened the barn door, and shut it quickly so they wouldn’t follow him inside.
    Approaching the gaping chasm, he bent on one knee and felt around the jutting boards that had re mained in place. He reached out and picked up a bent nail.
    In the back of his mind a red flag began to wave wildly. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He’d been a cop long enough to know when his instincts were trying to tell him something, and right now they were rocking and rolling too loudly to ignore.
    The nail made a dull ping as he tossed it onto the floor. He rubbed hi s chin. No rotten wood, no infe rior planking. This wasn’t an accident he was looking at.
    It was a trap.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 3
    Dear Diary:
    Las t ni g ht i dreamed that i was a beaudiful princess and lived in a really bi g and pretty castle and rode on a wit e horse with red and g old ribbons tied in her lon g flowing hair. And the prince from the next kingdom saw me and fell madly in love with me and asked me to marry him and i said Yes! because he was so handsome and nice, it was a v ery g ood dream but i don’t think i t will happen though. Well, maybe.
    E van geline—ag e 9
    T here was a term for people who became giddy after facing death and surviving. PTS? Post- traumatic silliness? No, that wasn’t it. Evie gazed at her reflection in the steamy bathroom mirror and beamed, thrilled to be alive, whatever the term for it was.
    She turned her head to the right. Slight bruise on the jaw, little cut on the forehead, swollen lip. Not bad. But her tongue was sore as hell where she’d