Grave Doubts (A Paranormal Mystery Novel) Read Online Free Page A

life just wasn’t worth living?  Do you
think she found a needle to inject herself with enough insulin to send her to
bye-bye land and then dropped dead on her living room floor, knowing that you,
or someone else she cared about, would find her that way?”
    Lee stopped with her hand still on
the shelf. “That’s more than one question.”
    “C’mon, Lee. Even Diane wasn’t that
callous.”
    Lee turned and leaned against the
counter, feeling fear welling in her chest. She crossed her arms hoping Patrick
wouldn’t notice that her composure was all but fractured.
    “What do you think?” her voice
cracked.
    He paused before responding. “I
think someone might have helped her.”
    Tears plopped over the rims of
Lee’s eyes before she could get a hand up to catch them. “Dammit, Patrick!  You
don’t know anything. You’ve spent too many hours on stage cooking up
make-believe characters in make-believe lives. This isn’t make-believe. This
isn’t the theater. People kill themselves. People you think would never kill
themselves, kill themselves. It happens. Shit happens!”
    He shrugged his broad shoulders and
backed towards the door. “You keep working on that, Lee. Give it a few weeks,
and you might even believe it. Meanwhile, thanks for the typewriter. I really need
it.”
    A moment later, the front door
closed and she used her sleeve to wipe away the tears. She moved over to the
table and picked up the strange card Patrick had held. Lee glanced at the
illustration of an angel floating above the clouds, harp tucked neatly under
her elbow. The card had arrived on Saturday without a postmark, addressed with
slanted, curvy handwriting she didn’t recognize. Although the card gave her a
weird, ominous feeling, she opened it to read the handwritten verse again.
     
    Little do we know
    When once we chance to dream
    Death may be the final blow
    But things aren’t always what
they seem.
     
    The roar of an engine brought her
to the kitchen window just as Patrick’s Mazda disappeared up the street. She
stood there watching the retreating taillights. Patrick was right. He was
always right. She didn’t think Diane had killed herself. In fact, she had
openly challenged the police the night she’d found Diane, but they had the
bottle of insulin and suicide note, and they hadn’t listened. Patrick was also
right about her dinner plans. It wasn't Robin she wanted to talk to; she hoped
that Alan could help her understand why the police had accepted just a few
pieces of evidence to support their finding of suicide.
    The sound of thunder rolling down
the stairs made her leave the window to finish putting the groceries away. A
moment later, her daughter’s voice boomed behind her.
    “Mom, I’m ready to go. Did Uncle
Patrick leave?”
    “Yeah, he’s gone.”
    “Are you going to be okay?” Amy
seemed concerned.
    Lee glanced over her shoulder. “Sure,
but it’s raining again. Do you have to go now?”
    “I have a class tomorrow morning.”
    “You could leave first thing
tomorrow.” She reached for a top shelf, bumping into a large German Shepherd that
had appeared quietly by her side. “God!  I'll be glad to see King Kong leaving.”
    Lee pushed the dog aside and
grabbed for a cupboard door. As she put the groceries away, she glanced back at
Amy leaning against the kitchen doorway, her long legs crossed at the ankles. At
five-foot-eight, Amy shared her father’s height, but had gotten Lee’s dark,
curly hair. Lee tried to commit to memory every detail of this child she was
beginning to lose. The heart-shaped face and the fact she rarely wore make-up
made her look younger than a second-year college student. Yet, even now,
dressed only in a baggy T-shirt and jeans, casually leaning against the wall,
Amy could have been posing for a magazine, she was that pretty. If it weren’t
for the severe asthma she’d inherited from her grandmother, she would be
perfect.
    “How was the funeral?” Amy