Raphael by D. B. Reynolds

Author:D. B. Reynolds [Reynolds, D. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Adult, Vampires, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781933417479
Google: w0RoPgAACAAJ
Amazon: 1933417471
Goodreads: 6398385
Publisher: ImaJinn Books
Published: 2009-04-15T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-four

The Judkins place turned out to be one of those cookie-cutter houses that had cropped up by the thousands on the formerly bare hillsides east of L.A. They stood one next to the other, exactly alike except for minor design variations that repeated themselves every four houses or so. There were no yards to speak of, and if you and your neighbor didn't use window blinds scrupulously, you were treated to the intimate details of each other's lives. The great American dream of home ownership.

The neighborhood was empty when Cyn parked her Land Rover out front. It was still early enough that kids were in school, and in most of these families, both parents probably worked. A stay at home mom was a luxury they couldn't afford. Not and keep the house. Emily Judkins was apparently one of the exceptions. She answered the door when Cynthia rang, an average woman, with blond hair and tired eyes. Probably worried about her husband. Cyn sighed.

"Mrs. Judkins? Emily Judkins?"

"Yes.” The word came out a little shaky. She'd taken one look at Cynthia in her black, hand-tailored Armani and the Land Rover parked out front and figured Cyn wasn't from the local Homeowners Association.

Cynthia held out her hand. “My name is Cynthia Leighton, Mrs. Judkins. I work for ... Raphael Enterprises.” She came up with the name the driver had used this morning. “Could I come in for a moment?"

The tired eyes filled with tears as Mrs. Judkins shook Cynthia's hand, holding on a little tighter and a little longer than absolutely polite. “Scott's dead, isn't he?” she whispered.

"If we could go inside,” Cynthia prompted.

"Please tell me! Is my husband dead?"

Cynthia regarded the woman solemnly. What difference did it make, after all, where she heard the news? “I'm sorry, Mrs. Judkins. Truly sorry."

Emily covered her face, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs. When she turned away and wandered back into her house, Cynthia followed, closing the door. Cyn was not someone who easily or willingly hugged perfect strangers, or even people she knew only slightly. She was uncomfortable with excessive emotion of almost any kind, especially in front of others, having been raised in a virtual emotional vacuum herself. Still, she knew the expected forms and she really did feel sorry for Scott Judkins’ and his family. It wasn't that she didn't have feelings; she just wasn't comfortable expressing them.

Cyn put an awkward arm around the smaller woman and guided her to the couch, then found the kitchen and got a glass of water. She wasn't sure what the water was supposed to do, but everyone seemed to need a glass of water in a crisis of this sort. A box of Kleenex sat on the kitchen counter, so she snagged that on her way back.

Putting the water on the table, she held out the box. Judkins grabbed a couple of tissues in between sobs, which made Cynthia feel she'd done the right thing in bringing them. She patted the woman's shoulder tentatively,

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