Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: T Patrick Phelps
family down to Ogunquit for a summer vacation. Stayed in the same house nearly every one of those 40 some odd years. I'm from Canada. Spent most of my life outside of Toronto, then moved to a small town in Quebec. My wife and four kids love coming this way in the summer time. Best beaches and best seafood around. About 15 or 16 years ago, my wife decided that she wanted to have a family portrait taken with all the kids and grandkids. She hired Maggie Bryant to take the picture and decided that the portrait taking should be an annual thing. So, every year for the last 15 or 16, Maggie would meet us all on the Marginal Way, take a whole mess of pictures, then we'd all meet at her studio and pick the best ones out.
"After a few years, the wife and I became friends with Maggie. Went to dinner a few times at her favorite place down in Rye, New Hampshire. Petey's, I think was the name of the place. Damn good food. Anyway, last year I got hit with this stroke. Didn't think I'd be able to come up to the area being half crippled, so I decided to move into this assisted living community slash nursing home. My wife let Maggie know what happened and that I was staying here, and next thing you know, she and her son Robby are knocking at my door. Good people, at least Maggie and Robby, that is. Can't say much about the husband. What's his name again? I know his name, but my memory ain't what it used to be."
"Jack," Derek said. "Something about him you don't like?"
"One of those things I can't put a finger on. Not a bad guy. Seems to take care of his family just fine. Just something about him. Like he's hiding something and thinks that everyone he meets is trying to find what he's hiding."
Derek was beginning to think that the call he was planning on making to Ralph Fox should become a priority call.
"So, you moved here after your stroke and still keep in touch with the Bryants?"
"Just Maggie and Robby," Ron said. "When my wife told them that I was living here, they marched right on up and spent an afternoon with me. They've been coming by at least once a week. Gotta say," Ron paused, "I haven't seen them in quite a while now that I think about it."
"Does your wife keep in touch with the Bryants?"
"My wife is still living in Quebec. See, I don't plan to stay here the rest of my life, however long that may be. Just plan to spend some time here till I'm strong enough to move back home. I think she still touches base with Maggie from time to time, and I know that she stayed with them at their house a few times when she came down to visit with me."
"Do you have any idea why I'm here to visit with you?" Derek asked. The sun was setting and taking with it any remaining warmth, leaving the already frigid winter air free to increase its chilling attack.
"Jack Bryant stopped by a couple of weeks ago," Ron said as his eyes drifted away from Derek and towards the distant ocean. "Asked me if I messed with his boy's head. I think those were the words he used. Asked me if I told Robby about ghosts and spirits. He accused me of telling him stories about how ghosts can come back from the dead and haunt little boys."
"Any truth to his accusations?" Derek asked.
Ron breathed deeply, pausing several seconds before turning his head towards Derek. "Ghosts, Mr. Cole. Do you believe in ghosts?"
"Not sure who said it first, but I always say that I don't believe in ghosts, but I'm afraid of them."
"Ever see something out of the corner of your eye? A quick shadow or something that your eyes tell you isn't really there? Ever think you spotted someone who you know died? Feel that you're not alone in a room when the rest of your senses tell you that you are? Ever feel something brush against you when nothing is around you?" His gray eyes steadied their hold of Derek's. "Have you ever felt, when alone at night, that someone or something is just outside of your field of vision?"
"So," Derek said, breaking his gaze from Ron's eyes, " I
"After a few years, the wife and I became friends with Maggie. Went to dinner a few times at her favorite place down in Rye, New Hampshire. Petey's, I think was the name of the place. Damn good food. Anyway, last year I got hit with this stroke. Didn't think I'd be able to come up to the area being half crippled, so I decided to move into this assisted living community slash nursing home. My wife let Maggie know what happened and that I was staying here, and next thing you know, she and her son Robby are knocking at my door. Good people, at least Maggie and Robby, that is. Can't say much about the husband. What's his name again? I know his name, but my memory ain't what it used to be."
"Jack," Derek said. "Something about him you don't like?"
"One of those things I can't put a finger on. Not a bad guy. Seems to take care of his family just fine. Just something about him. Like he's hiding something and thinks that everyone he meets is trying to find what he's hiding."
Derek was beginning to think that the call he was planning on making to Ralph Fox should become a priority call.
"So, you moved here after your stroke and still keep in touch with the Bryants?"
"Just Maggie and Robby," Ron said. "When my wife told them that I was living here, they marched right on up and spent an afternoon with me. They've been coming by at least once a week. Gotta say," Ron paused, "I haven't seen them in quite a while now that I think about it."
"Does your wife keep in touch with the Bryants?"
"My wife is still living in Quebec. See, I don't plan to stay here the rest of my life, however long that may be. Just plan to spend some time here till I'm strong enough to move back home. I think she still touches base with Maggie from time to time, and I know that she stayed with them at their house a few times when she came down to visit with me."
"Do you have any idea why I'm here to visit with you?" Derek asked. The sun was setting and taking with it any remaining warmth, leaving the already frigid winter air free to increase its chilling attack.
"Jack Bryant stopped by a couple of weeks ago," Ron said as his eyes drifted away from Derek and towards the distant ocean. "Asked me if I messed with his boy's head. I think those were the words he used. Asked me if I told Robby about ghosts and spirits. He accused me of telling him stories about how ghosts can come back from the dead and haunt little boys."
"Any truth to his accusations?" Derek asked.
Ron breathed deeply, pausing several seconds before turning his head towards Derek. "Ghosts, Mr. Cole. Do you believe in ghosts?"
"Not sure who said it first, but I always say that I don't believe in ghosts, but I'm afraid of them."
"Ever see something out of the corner of your eye? A quick shadow or something that your eyes tell you isn't really there? Ever think you spotted someone who you know died? Feel that you're not alone in a room when the rest of your senses tell you that you are? Ever feel something brush against you when nothing is around you?" His gray eyes steadied their hold of Derek's. "Have you ever felt, when alone at night, that someone or something is just outside of your field of vision?"
"So," Derek said, breaking his gaze from Ron's eyes, " I
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