The Gray Zone Read Online Free PDF Page A

embroidered on it.
    “You look cold. Are you hungry?”
    “MOMMY!”
    Kelly jumped.
    “Kevin’s eating my fries!”
    “No, darling, those are not your fries. You’re not supposed to have any fries. Let’s see what else they have that you might like.”
    She waved at the waitress to come to their table.
    “Do you have any sugarless desserts for a diabetic?”
    “Sugar-free Jell-O?”
    “That’ll be great, thanks.” Kelly turned to Libby, saying, “Honey, you’ll love it.”
    The children continued to bicker. Without a word, Kelly breathed on a spoon and pressed it to her nose. It hung on the center of her face, and she waited for them to notice. As she watched their faces, a wave of love enveloped her. It was easy to put aside her memories of his voice that day, nine years ago, asking, “Are you hungry?”
    “Mommy!” squealed Libby, instantly forgetting about Kevin’s offenses. “I want to do that!”
    “It works on your chin, too,” said Kelly, demonstrating. Kevin covered his fries with more ketchup as Libby hung her spoon fromvarious parts of her body and experimented with the different surfaces of the table and the vinyl seat. Kelly took a sip of coffee as the waitress came over with the Jell-O.
    “May I invite you to have lunch with me?” he asked politely, gentleman that he was.
    He pulled Kelly under his umbrella and led her to a warm restaurant where they studied menus the size of newspapers in a booth in a back room. In a whisper, Kelly ordered a steak, a baked potato, and a strawberry shake. She hadn’t been in a restaurant since her mother had been killed, and it was what her mother had always ordered.
    He drank some type of clear alcohol with a twist of lemon in it, as Kelly recalled, and he simply watched her eat. They did not speak. Kelly chewed quickly. When she put down her knife and fork, he slid toward her and, putting his hand over hers, broke the silence.
    “You know, little one, I pride myself on being a real good judge of character. I can see that you are a good girl. You don’t belong on the streets.” His sad eyes moved across her face. “I have no family. The only people who live in my house work for me. They can take good care of you,” he said in a fatherly voice. “Come home with me. You can have your own room. I live in a big house with far too many things for me alone. I can use the company. I’m tired of eating alone every night. You can get a puppy or a kitten, whatever new clothes you want. I’m just like you: all alone in the world.”
    Kelly had recognized immediately that he was holding out a way for her to escape the Gordons and the police. Whatever this man’s motives, they seemed far less threatening than Gary Gordon’s fist or juvenile hall. He might be nice for a couple ofdays. So Kelly had nodded and wiped her mouth, and when he got up and offered her his hand, she took it and followed him to his car.
    His house was set back from the street by a curved driveway. The November trees in the front yard were bare and slick with rain. As he’d promised, the house was large—a mansion, really—and painted white with a gray roof and dormer windows. A portico and two pillars framed the front door, which was painted black.
    He punched some buttons on a keypad, and a wrought-iron gate swung open. Kelly stayed very quiet as he led her up the steps and through the front door. The entryway was vast, with black-and-white tiles that stretched away from her like a giant checkerboard. He showed her the game room with the pool table, the screening room with the projection TV and cabinet full of movies, the kitchen with a refrigerator that took up an entire wall, and a walk-in pantry stocked with snack food.
    Upstairs was her room, already made up. It contained a bed with a red bedspread. The floor was covered in fluffy white shag. The dresser, vanity, and desk were white.
    Looking back on it, as she had done so many times, Kelly wondered why the few things she