Edge of Darkness by Gregory Delaurentis

Author:Gregory Delaurentis [Delaurentis, Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2015-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

“What are you looking for?” Paul Whitehouse said as he stepped through the doorway of his Uncle Richard’s house.

“Paperwork,” Kevin said as he swung his penlight on the end of his keychain around in the dimly lit room and found the fuse box against the wall.

“What kind of paperwork?”

“Paperwork that proves your uncle didn’t kill himself.” Kevin opened the fuse box and began flipping switches slowly. Soon, the comfortable yellow glow of tungsten lights brightened every corner and corridor of the rustic interior. “I think I just hit the jackpot,” Kevin added.

Paul stood in the center of the foyer, looking about him cautiously, as if ghosts lurked in the remote recesses of the eerily quiet home.

“Do you know where your uncle kept all his bills and stuff, Paulie?”

Paul pointed to the right and headed toward the den. “Follow me, it’s this way.”

The spacious room included a large mahogany desk and wooden file cabinets, as well as wall-to-wall bookcases whose contents were askew. A conspicuous crack in the wall above one set of file cabinets continued along the ceiling, stopping at the base of the ceiling fan-light fixture combo overhead. Plaster powder covered the surfaces like a thin layer of pale dust. A few chairs were overturned, as well as some of the smaller objects like pens and pencils that were now scattered over the floor.

As he took in the scene, Kevin wondered if the house was still structurally sound. If it was, he was certain that he could convince his uncle to turn it over quickly for the first reasonable offer. He didn’t want the house—he didn’t even want the money. He just wanted it gone, like the rest of his life here in Brandon. For Kevin, there was nothing left, and it had been that way for some time. Even when his father was alive, there was nothing to come back for. Yes, there were things, old photos, and other memorabilia—as well as memories, of course—but that was all; and for Kevin, that wasn’t enough. Ironically, his father’s murder and funeral was the only worthwhile reason to return to Brandon.

Kevin roused himself from his reverie, and stepped over to the desk. He pulled the high-backed leather chair out, and slapped away the dust before he sat down. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and produced his reading glasses, and started with the papers on his right, making a neat stack before thumbing through them.

“What do you want me to do, Kev?” Paul asked as he paced around the room, occasionally taking down a volume and paging through it, then returning it carefully to an empty slot in the row of books.

“Do whatever you want, just stay within earshot of me.”

“Okay,” he said resignedly.

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