Mr. Monk on the Road Read Online Free PDF Page A

sense of order and cleanliness, but I did resent him for being too gutless to take the boys with him. I held her responsible for their deep psychological problems, all of which she wouldn’t have seen as problems at all. From what I could tell, they were perfect reflections of her bizarre worldview.
    Ambrose greeted us at the door wearing his usual long-sleeve flannel shirt, sweater vest, and corduroy slacks. He gripped the doorframe as if he was afraid he might get sucked out into the street by explosive decompression if he let go.
    “Greetings. It’s delightful to see you Natalie,” he said. “And you, too, Adrian. Won’t you please come in?”
    He stepped back in the entry hall, giving us plenty of leeway and putting lots of distance between himself and the door.
    I kissed him on the cheek as I came in and he instantly blushed. “You’re looking great, Ambrose.”
    “He looks exactly the same as the last time we were here,” Monk said.
    Ambrose ignored Monk and kept his eyes on me. “Thank you, Natalie. This is the newest of my brown sweaters, and it’s just back from the dry cleaners. I was very sorry to hear that you broke up with your boyfriend and that you’re available again for new romantic opportunities.”
    “Is that what we are here for?” Monk asked. “So you could slobber all over my assistant?”
    Ambrose turned an even darker shade of red. “Do not be grotesque, Adrian. I was merely expressing my sympathies. It’s what people do. It’s called being considerate. Could you please close the door?”
    Monk slammed the door shut.
    “Out of curiosity,” I said to Ambrose, “who told you about Steven?”
    “Julie mentioned it,” Ambrose said. “We were IMing the other day.”
    “You were doing what ?” Monk said. “She’s only nineteen.”
    “We were instant messaging, Adrian,” he said. “It’s a technology that people in our modern society use to communicate with one another, using text messages over the telephone or with your computer. I really don’t know how you function in the world.”
    “But I do,” Monk said.
    “With lots of very attractive help,” Ambrose said, smiling at me. “Adrian, could you please lock the door?”
    Monk locked, bolted, and chained the door. “What’s the big emergency?”
    “There isn’t one,” Ambrose said. “I just wanted to see you.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you are my brother, Adrian.”
    “I have been for forty years.”
    “But I haven’t seen you in months. You didn’t even bother to tell me that you’d solved Trudy’s murder. I had to read about that in the newspaper.”
    Monk lowered his head. “I’m sorry. It was a hectic time.”
    “Trudy was my sister-in-law, Adrian. And you know I felt somehow responsible for what happened to her because she was running an errand for me the same day that she was killed.”
    “Her murder wasn’t your fault at all.”
    “Yes, I know that now, but it would have been nice to have heard it from you,” he said. “And I wouldn’t have known about Molly if it wasn’t for Natalie calling me to share the joyous news.”
    “I didn’t think you’d care,” Monk said.
    “Of course I care. I hope you’ll bring her to meet me sometime.”
    “Why?”
    I glared at Monk. How could he be so insensitive? Of course, I knew how, but it didn’t make it any easier to take.
    “Because she is Trudy’s daughter and I loved Trudy,” Ambrose said. “Maybe not as much as you, but I loved her.”
    “I’m sorry,” Monk said. “Of course you did.”
    Ambrose waved away the whole subject with his hand. “You can make amends by telling me all about her over waffles.”
    Monk brightened up immediately. “You made waffles?”
    “Mom’s recipe. Six squares on every side.”
    Monk practically swooned. So we went to the kitchen, where breakfast was already laid out. We sat down, and Ambrose supplied each of us with an individual cup of maple syrup and an eyedropper. I had no idea what the eyedroppers