The Angel of Eden Read Online Free

live.”
    Jefferson shook his head. “It has very little chance of surviving, Mr. Madison. Do you know anything about wild animals?”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œNine times out of ten they’ll die out of fright, even with milder injuries. Merely the shock of being confined can kill them. I can treat this little one if that’s what you want, but I’ll have to charge you for its care. It’ll be quite expensive and you’d be spending your money for nothing.”
    â€œThat’s okay. I’ll pay for him. Whatever it takes.”
    â€œAnd you’re prepared to take full responsibility for it?” I nodded. I had friends with country property; maybe they could be persuaded to look after it.
    He waited a minute or so to see how resolute I was, then gave in with a shake of his head. “All right. It’s quiet so far tonight. I’m on duty till seven A.M . I’ll do what I can, but if an emergency comes through the door it takes precedence. Understood?”
    I nodded, feeling a strange sense of elation. He promised to call me before he finished his shift.
    â€œOh, and one other thing,” he said as I turned to go.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œIt’s not a him .”
    â€œPardon me?”
    He pointed to the animal. “ She is female.”

    When I arrived back home and checked my email, I found a message from Bennet.
    Her high, exuberant tones echoed in every word. “Great news! I spoke with Lucas Strauss and he’s agreed to meet you. The appointment’s for eight tomorrow night. I’ll stop by your place at seven-thirty to pick you up. Looking forward to seeing you again!”
    She’d completely ignored my brush-off. What was her deal? Tenacious or just oblivious? Probably the former, given her desire to secure the job. Her pushiness bothered me all over again and I got set to tap out a rapid reply telling her to forget it. Then I had second thoughts. I should at least figure out who I was dealing with.
    I Googled her profile and found she’d indeed been telling the truth, about her work at least. She’d ghosted a couple of memoirs posing as autobiographies; one of them had even hit the New York Times bestseller list. That probably had more to do with the publicity-seeking celebrity she was writing about than the quality of her prose, but still. I also found a smattering of magazine articles, mostly star-struck interviews under her byline. Glossy, frivolous pieces. Certainly not hard-hitting investigative journalism. She was pretty active on Facebook. I started to relax a little. Her bio was brief. She’d grown up in Connecticut, her father a banker, her mother a homemaker. She’d been educated at Bryn Mawr, on Daddy’s money I assumed. The picture of a classic New England colonial complete with floppy-eared dog on the portico appeared in my mind’s eye. No mention of siblings. Only child, then? Probably spoiled, her tenacity presumably a raging case of entitlement. I was likely the first person who’d ever said no to her. Her age was the only surprise. Thirty-one. I’d guessed younger.
    Despite my misgivings about the whole thing, I emailed her to say I’d accept her invitation. I wanted to size up Strauss, to learn more about the man. His interest did not sit well with me.

    February 15, 2005
    Dr. Jefferson called the next morning to say the dog had pulled through and her injuries weren’t as bad as he’d first thought. If she continued to improve at this rate, I could pick her up the following day.
    I spent the next hours on my computer tracking down an item for a client, a 1536 volume of nineteen sermons about the peril of untruthful teachers, authored by the fiery Savonarola. The history behind the piece was fascinating but I had to fight to keep my attention on the job. I was keyed up and restless. I gave up mid-afternoon, made some coffee, and called the friends who had a large