Season of Strangers Read Online Free Page A

don’t know exactly. Not that long ago. Sometime after the day we spent together out at your place.”
    â€œThe policeman assured me no one was trying to break in, but if you’re frightened, maybe you should come home with me, spend a few days in Malibu lying on the beach.”
    â€œI’d rather stay here. Besides, I can’t take time off from work.”
    â€œIt’s only a part-time job.” Laura worked in a little boutique called The Cottage down on Main Street, one of a dozen different jobs she had had since she dropped out of college. “You could always drive in to work from my house.”
    Laura chewed her bottom lip. “Yeah, I guess I could.” She glanced at the door and then at the window. “Maybe if I just stayed there until the weekend. By then Jimmy will be back in town—”
    â€œJimmy Osborn? I thought you weren’t seeing that creep anymore.”
    Laura straightened, pulling her hand away. “He isn’t a creep.”
    â€œHe hit you, Laura. If you want to be frightened of something, you ought to be frightened of him.”
    â€œHe just lost his temper, that’s all. He promised it won’t happen again.”
    â€œHe’s bad news, Laura. Forget about Jimmy Osborn, pack a bag and let’s go.”
    She hesitated only a moment, then she got up from the couch and went into the other room. A few minutes later she returned with a small vinyl suitcase, enough clothes to last through the end of the week. She wouldn’t stay longer than that, Julie knew. Laura liked being on her own too much, and even if she didn’t go back to dating Jimmy Osborn, there were a dozen more men standing in line to take his place.
    As they walked out to the car, Julie caught a glimpse of Laura’s strained, wary expression. Her sister glanced over her shoulder, looking right and left, then finally climbed into the passenger seat.
    What was the matter with Laura now?
    She’d always had a tendency to illness, both real and imagined, but this was something else. Julie wondered if the policeman might have been right, and silently vowed to find the name of a good psychiatrist.

Three
    J ulie walked out of her office, heading toward the front door at the opposite end of the room.
    â€œAlways in a hurry.” Seated at his desk, Fred Thompkins chuckled. “I told you what my doctor said about that.”
    She paused beside his chair and smiled down at him. “He said you have high cholesterol and a heart condition. That you had better learn to slow down. You said that also applies to me, that I should stop and smell the roses. I believe you’ve mentioned that, Fred.”
    â€œMaybe I have…a couple of dozen times.” He was an overweight retired math professor who wore funny little paisley bow ties. He grinned above the starched white collar that cut into the folds on his neck. “Unfortunately, you never listen.”
    â€œThat’s because I don’t have high cholesterol and I’ve got bills to pay.” More next month, she thought grimly, when Dr. Heraldson’s psychiatric bill came in. She just hoped the sessions would be of some help to her sister.
    â€œYou still looking for Patrick?”
    â€œI’m always looking for Patrick, for one thing or another. He hasn’t come in yet, has he?”
    â€œHe’s never here before noon. You know that as well as I do.”
    â€œHe said he’d work on the Rabinoff deal. We’ve got to get that escrow closed.”
    â€œShirl said he was driving out to Flintridge to see his dad. He’s supposed to be in later.”
    Julie’s heart tugged painfully. “I hope Alex is feeling better. He looked pretty bad when I saw him last Saturday.” Patrick’s father was confined to a wheelchair, the left side of his body paralyzed by a stroke, his speech impaired, one side of his once-handsome face now drooping.
    It was tough on a strong,