The Edge of Madness Cafe (The Sea and the Wasteland Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

an interest Ellen had never
seen before in the coffee shop owner. Serena was polite, a good listener and a
pleasant sounding board. But while she occasionally offered her opinion, she
seldom showed real interest in anything. She simply went about what she was
doing, tending to her own universe.
    Until now.
    “I asked Mr. Dabble about
it, but he had no idea where it came from or why,” Ellen said. “He was very
interested in it. I think he thought it was simply something that slipped the
notice of the packer, or had been misidentified by some clerk at the
publishers, or even someone with the Library of Congress. But he couldn’t find
anything at all about it. I think it really bothered him. He told me to keep
the book safe, and to not let anyone know about it.”
    Serena’s eyes flicked to
Ellen’s face, and the young woman felt herself blush. “I’m not exactly sure
what he meant by that. I mean, it isn’t a crime to write a book, or even to get
it published and distributed without a whole lot of fanfare. I’ve just never
seen anything like it. Underground publishing, maybe? Only it’s good enough
that it should have been published by a regular book house.”
    “And Nicky knows nothing
about either the author or the story?” Serena pressed, dumbfounded by this singular
fact.
    “No. Nothing.”
    Serena’s hand came across
the counter, the long fingers reaching out to lightly brush the glossy cover.
It was the kind of reverent gesture afforded to one of the seven wonders of the
world; a hesitant, tremulous brush of the fingertips, as if afraid to waken a
sleeping dragon, or rouse an angry spirit, or simply wary of brazenly touching
the hem of God’s robe.
    And suddenly Serena’s
hand curled tightly, withdrawing as her gaze turned up and over Ellen’s
shoulder. Ellen turned to follow her stare, and saw Nicholas Dabble open the
front door and step out into the doorway of the bookstore. He looked up and
down the street with only passing interest then returned his gaze to the front
window of Serena’s Coffee Shoppe . It lingered there for a moment before
he turned and went back inside. The sign on the glass door was turned from
CLOSED to OPEN.
    “I should probably be
going,” Ellen said.
    She put the book back in
her bag, and turned to the condiment station to snap the lid on her coffee.
    “I’d love to borrow that
book from you sometime,” Serena said, a trifle too eager.
    Ellen turned to her.
“Sure, I guess.” It was a lie, and she was very much afraid that Serena knew
that. The only thing more unnerving than Serena’s unnatural curiosity over the
book was Ellen’s own need not to let anyone take it from her. It was silly, her
hesitation running counter to her compulsion to tell people about it, that hope
for insight into its nature; the book was the kernel of truth that proved she
was sane. If others learned of it, it would confirm her story. But that did not
change the fact that she would not, at any cost or for any reason, let anyone
take the book from her. Her life was all smoke and soap bubbles and wind; nothing
was grounded; nothing was certain; nothing was indisputable fact. Nothing,
except that she must not let anyone take The Sanity’s Edge Saloon away
from her. Of that—and maybe only that—she was very certain.
    “I should go,” she
repeated, taking her coffee and hurrying out the door, the small chimes ringing
distantly as she left.
     
    *     *     *
     
    Serena’s eyes followed
the girl’s willowy form across the street to Dabble’s Books . She stared
long and hard at Nicholas Dabble’s shop, looking at the man on the far side of
the glass. He seemed to be looking back at her, a brief glance before
retreating deeper into the store, disappearing behind layers of shadow and reflection
like the charlatan he was. And Dabble’s look was not kind, a subtle glare that
was a little curious, a little covetous, and a little angry.
    What are you hiding
over there, Nicholas? she