See No Evil by B. A. Shapiro

Author:B. A. Shapiro [Shapiro, B. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, supernatural, suspense
ISBN: 9781504011648
Google: juNzBgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1504011643
Goodreads: 24770979
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 1996-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

AS LAUREN CLIMBED FROM THE BOWELS OF THE HARVARD Square subway station into the gray morning light, she found the dismal weather a perfect reflection of her mood. Drew had destroyed Bunny in a horrible and violent way, and she was terrified Mrs. Baker and Dr. Berg’s concerns were well placed—that there might be something seriously wrong with her son.

When she had questioned Drew about Bunny, he had glared defiantly at her. “Stuffed animals are for babies,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in a heartbreakingly adult gesture. “You told me not to hurt other people’s things. Bunny’s mine and I can hurt him if I want.”

“But you love Bunny,” Lauren said, her voice breaking. “You’ve always loved Bunny.”

“Not anymore,” Drew had told her.

Lauren blinked back tears and looked up at the sky, which was the same color as the concrete beneath her feet. Glancing at her watch, she took the subway stairs two at a time. She was late to meet Deborah. She frowned at the bulky shopping bag she carried on her arm. Although she had remembered to bring the Bellarmine urn, in her haste and distraction she had forgotten the poppet.

The square was eerily still as she reached the street. A solitary cab was taking a wide turn in front of the Harvard Coop and a fortress of unsold newspapers stood sentinel around the Out of Town kiosk. As the sky began to spit something between rain and snow, Lauren hurried to RavenWing.

When she got there, the sign in the window read CLOSED. But when she pushed the latch, the door opened, setting off tinkling wind chimes and the canary’s song.

“Lauren?” Deborah’s disembodied voice called from somewhere deep in the store. “Could you bolt the door behind you, please?” she asked before Lauren could identify herself. When Lauren came back through the small vestibule, Deborah was standing next to the trestle table smiling at her.

Deborah held out her hands and pressed Lauren’s free hand between them. “You’re frozen,” she said. “Come, I’ve put on some tea.” She waved Lauren toward the book corner. “Go sit down in the niche—it’s so much nicer than in the storage room. I’ll be right back.”

Lauren looked nervously around the empty store, remembering everything Gabe had told her the previous evening. Things that, despite Deborah’s “normal” appearance this morning, Lauren was sure were true. Thinking about Jackie’s admonition to keep an open mind, Lauren placed the shopping bag on the floor and took off her jacket. She sank into one of the beanbag chairs and shifted around, trying to get comfortable. But long-legged people and beanbag chairs don’t mix. With her knees in the air and her shoulders angled back toward the wall, Lauren felt like an overgrown Alice in a very uncomfortable wonderland.

“Milk or lemon?” Deborah called out through the door to the back room.

“Plain’s just fine.” Lauren didn’t care how her tea was accessorized. No matter what was in it, it was one of her least favorite beverages. Just as, she thought wryly, psychotics were one of her least favorite sources of information.

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