Truly, Madly Read Online Free PDF Page A

person who received it.
    Which was why I'd been able to pick up on the ring's energy from Michael, even though the ring technically belonged to Jennifer.
    I was at a loss.
    The ring I'd seen had been on a corpse buried in a shallow grave in North Weymouth—the town where Michael lived. Coincidence? I hardly thought so.
    But what did I do about it?
    Call the police? It didn't take any kind of psychic ability to see where that conversation would go.
    Try to find the body on my own? It was a thought. But then what?
    Another option was to do absolutely nothing.
    I ruled that thought out as soon as it popped into my head. I wasn't a do-nothing kind of girl.
    I found Suzannah sitting at her desk, her teary eyes focused on the TV and the continuing coverage of the story TV stations had now called ''Little Boy Lost,'' a label that flashed across the screen in bold yellow script.
    ''You don't look well,'' she said. ''I was about to say the same about you.''
    She motioned to the TV with her head as she opened the bottom drawer of her desk, plucked a Puffs. ''My nephew is that age. The story is hitting a little too close to home.''
    Scanning the latest headlines, I frowned. ''They took the father in for questioning?''
    ''Don't you remember the case where that woman drowned her little boys in the lake, then told everyone they'd been carjacked?''
    ''Unfortunately,'' I mumbled.
    ''The police are questioning whether the father really had a seizure or not. There weren't any witnesses. Divers are scouring the Aaron River Reservoir.''
    ''Maybe you shouldn't watch.'' I knew the coverage was making me feel worse. To think a father might have taken his own child's life . . .
    ''You're right.'' She clicked off the set, jumped up, then sat back down. ''I feel so useless.''
    ''Why don't you go down and help search the woods? I'm sure they're forming search parties.''
    She jumped up again. ''I should. I will!'' Dashing to the closet, she grabbed her Burberry trench coat and her handbag. Dusk had fallen, casting shadows. I walked over, pulled the drapes, and turned on a floor lamp.
    Rushing to the door, Suzannah stopped abruptly. ''What about you?''
    ''I'll be all right. I'm going to see to the fire, lock up and head upstairs to see Sam for a few minutes, then go home.'' I needed a dose of familiarity after the day I'd had.
    ''How are Em and Marisol these days?''
    ''I hardly ever see them. Marisol is so wrapped up with her internship at the vet clinic, and Em's slowly going out of her mind between her pediatric internship and the wedding.''
    Suz belted her coat and nodded. ''Wedding planning will do that to you.''
    ''Especially when her mother has completely taken over the planning and is two hundred thousand over a quarter-million-dollar budget, one of her flower girls decided she wanted to be the ring bearer, and Em's gained ten pounds and doesn't fit into her dress anymore.''
    Suzannah whistled. ''That's some budget.''
    ''Always the best for a Baumbach,'' I said, repeating Em's family mantra.
    ''When's the wedding?''
    ''Valentine's Day.''
    ''Aww, how romantic. I'm sure it will all work out,'' she said. ''You should have seen me two months before my wedding.''
    I smiled. ''I did.''
    ''Oh. That's right.'' Color surged into her cheeks.
    ''Don't worry; I don't hold it against you.''
    She ran over, pecked my cheek. ''Get some rest—you really don't look well.''
    ''I will. Just need to check with Sam on something.''
    Heaving open the door, Suzannah stopped short. ''Wait. Sam's on Maui with his family.''
    ''He is? I saw his door open when I came in.''
    ''Sean's up there.''
    ''Sean?''
    ''Sam's brother. Used to be a firefighter until some sort of injury sidelined him. Sam made him a partner in the company about nine months ago.''
    Odd that I hadn't heard about it until now. ''When does Sam get back?''
    ''Sunday.''
    It was only Wednesday. Could I wait that long?
    Suzannah must have seen my hesitation. ''Sean's good. You can trust him.''
    ''You