Catherine Coulter - FBI Thriller - 1 by The Cove

Author:The Cove [Cove, The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-01-16T23:42:32.545000+00:00

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Sally waited for a commercial, then said, "Hello, Grandfather, Grandmother."

Her grandmother's head jerked around, and she cried out, "Susan!"

Her grandfather said, "Is that really you, Susan? By all that's holy, my poor child, whatever are you doing here?"

Neither of them moved from the sofa. They seemed nailed to their seats. Her grandmother's book slid from her lap to the beautiful Tabriz carpet.

Sally took a step toward them. "I hoped you could give me some money. There are a lot of people looking for me, and I need to hide someplace. I only have about seventeen dollars."

Franklin Harrison rose slowly. He was wearing a smoking jacket and an ascot-she hadn't known those things were still even made. She suddenly had an image of him wearing the same thing when she'd been a very young girl. She remembered how he'd held her and let her stroke the soft silk of the ascot. His white hair was thick and wavy, his eyes a dark blue, his cheekbones high, but his mouth was small and tight. It seemed smaller and tighter now

Olivia Harrison rose as well, straightening the silk dress she was wearing. She held out her hand. "Susan, dear, why aren't you with that lovely Doctor Beadermeyer? You didn't escape again, did you? That's not a good thing for you, dear, not good for you at all, particularly with all the scandal that your father's death has produced."

"He didn't just die, Grandmother, he was murdered."

"Yes, we know. All of us have suffered. But now we're concerned about you, Susan. Your mother has told us how much Doctor Beadermeyer has done for you, how much better you've gotten. We met him once and were very impressed with him. Wasn't that nice of him to come to Philadelphia to meet us? You are better, aren't you, Susan? You aren't still seeing things that aren't there, are you? You're not still blaming people for things they didn't do?"

"No, Grandmother. I never did any of those things." Strange how neither of them wanted to come close to her.

"You know, dear," her grandmother continued in that gentle voice of hers that masked pure iron, “your grandfather and I have discussed this, and we hate to say it, but it's possible that you're like your uncle Geoffrey. Your illness is probably hereditary, and so it isn't really your fault. Let me call Doctor Beadermeyer, dear."

Sally could only stare at her grandmother. "Uncle Geoffrey was born with Down's syndrome. It has nothing to do with mental illness."

"Yes, but it perhaps shows that instability can be somewhat genetic, passed down from a mother or a father to the daughter. But that's not important. What's important is getting you back to that nice sanitarium so Doctor Beadermeyer can treat you. Before your father died, he called us every week to tell us how much better you were getting. Well, there were weeks with setbacks, but he said that in the main, you were improving with the new drug therapies.

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