Pane and Suffering Read Online Free PDF Page B

down the soldered joins that held the glass pieces together. Their velvety smoothness was the hallmark of a true craftsman. It was a stunning work of art. “There must be more written down somewhere. Dad was meticulous about documenting the progress of an important work.”
    Savannah went back to the desk and repeated her search through each drawer and storage space, sorting, filing, and straightening as she went. Nothing.
    Where could the paperwork be? Why isn’t it here with his other project notebooks? Is this another secret? She pushed back the chair and studied the desk. If he were going to hide something, where would it be?
    She pulled out one of the two small drawers nestled in the cubbyhole section and emptied its contents onto the desk. The underside of the drawer was clean and there was no sign of a compartment inside the cavity. She tidied the contents as she was putting them back, then dumped the contents of the second drawer onto the desk.
    A small brown envelope had been taped to the underside of the second drawer. There was something small inside. She removed the tape and turned the envelope over. A cold chill zipped down her spine. Her dad’s spiky writing scrawled across the front.

    Savannah, if you find this, I’ve been murdered and you are in danger.

    She dropped the envelope like a hot potato and stood up. He’s been murdered! Her hands were shaking, but she clasped them together and tried to think clearly. I should call the police—that officer that came today.
    In her front pocket, Savannah found the card that the police officer had given her that morning. The name on the card jumped out. “He said to call.” She dialed the number, listened to the directions, and punched in the extension number.
    â€œOfficer Boulli.”
    â€œHello, my name is Savannah Webb. I met you this morning at the glass shop in the Grand Central District. We had a man who had died in our workshop. You said I could call you if I had any questions.”
    â€œYeah, I remember the EMTs were saying that he died of a heart attack, right?”
    â€œYes, but I’ve found something in my dad’s office that might change that.”
    â€œFound what?”
    â€œI found an envelope from my dad. The writing on the outside said he had been murdered and that I was in danger.” Savannah knew she was making a terrible impression, but she couldn’t calm her nervous voice into behaving like a rational adult.
    â€œAn envelope?”
    â€œWell, so far. I haven’t opened it just in case you wanted it as evidence. I’m reporting this to make sure that you know that Hugh’s death might not be a heart attack. My dad’s death might not be a heart attack, either.” Hearing the shrill shake in her voice, she swallowed and took a short breath. “My dad used to work for the government and I think he found some information that got him killed.”
    â€œWow, little lady. That’s a huge leap. So, you think that because your dad left you a note, we should open a murder investigation?”
    Savannah reacted as if freezing water had been thrown in her face. Little lady? “My father was a senior cryptographer specializing in cold war ciphers and surveillance. There must be some basis behind his suspicions. I don’t know why else he would have tried to warn me.” She stood up and began to pace as far as the phone cord would permit.
    â€œI think you’ve got your Nancy Drew imagination working overtime. I don’t think you’ve got any reason to feel threatened.” The officer sounded bored and annoyed.
    She formed a fist and waved it at the phone. “Is there anyone else I can talk to?”
    â€œWhoa. No need to get snippy. I’ll report this up the chain and see what happens . . . but I seriously think you need to dial back your imagination and just accept that old guys die of heart attacks.”
    â€œI’m not imagining this.