Anathema Read Online Free Page A

was three doors down from the Stumble Inn. It was a small building sandwiched between the five and dime store and Lily and Lila's Sew What! There were a pair of potted mums on the stoop and the happy yellow flowers looked like splotches of sunshine against the red brick. In an effort to keep out the morning heat, the blinds were drawn across the window that faced the street. A black and orange sign proclaimed: Come on in! You're always welcome!
    Jarvis opened the door, and the small bell that hung above it jingled to announce his arrival.
    As always, the office was filled with the nutty aroma of fresh brewed coffee and the cinnamon goodness of just-baked sweet rolls. Both were complimentary to visitors.
    Dorothy looked up from her romance novel. “Hey, Jarvis.” A smile beamed across the receptionist's face. “How are you?” Then the smile faded. “Are you okay, kid, you look as white as yesterday's mashed potatoes."
    "I'm fine, Dorothy. Is Larry in?"
    "He's in back,” Dorothy said. “And help yourself to a sticky bun on the way in."
    "Thanks,” Jarvis said as he passed the receptionist, “but not today."
    "Okay honey. Maybe next time.” Dorothy went back to her reading, but couldn't concentrate on the words. Her thoughts were still with Jarvis. For as long as she could remember, she'd never known him to pass up a sweet roll. He did look a little pale. Maybe he was coming down with something.
    Jarvis wondered if she suspected his urgency. That was the first time he ever turned down a sweet roll. Hopefully she thought he was coming down with something.
    Jarvis knocked on the door marked private and waited for a response.
    "Yeah, come on in,” Larry's baritone voice said from the other side.
    Jarvis tripped the latch and stepped inside.
    The realtor's office was small, but immaculate. A walnut bookcase dominated one wall, while a couple of Norman Rockwell prints hung from the other.
    Oh, Norman. If only life was as simple as you made it to be.
    Under the framed Rockwells was a row of brown filing cabinets, each labeled with Larry's precise block lettering. The window behind the desk offered an unobstructed view of Town Square Park, Prairie Rest's newest development.
    "Jarvis, have a seat.” Larry offered one of the two chairs in front of the desk. A wide smile displayed his perfect teeth. He seemed happy to see Jarvis, but Larry always seemed happy to see anyone.
    Jarvis sat down. “You sold the Miller place, didn't you?"
    Larry's warm facade melted. “Yes, I did. What of it? I'd been a fool if I hadn't. Some stranger blows into town, asks about it, and is ready to settle the deal right then and there. I thought it was a terrific opportunity to unload it."
    "But it wasn't supposed to be sold. Ever. That was the deal."
    "That deal, Jarvis,” Larry said, scooting his chair closer to his desk and leaning into Jarvis's face, “was between you and my grandfather. When Otto died, he left the business to me. The whole business and that includes the right to buy and sell whatever I damn-well please."
    "Are you forgetting how your grandfather died?” Jarvis spat.
    Larry pushed himself away from the desk and walked to the filing cabinet. There he poured himself a cup of coffee. He did not offer any to Jarvis.
    "Oh, please, Jarvis, don't start on that hocus pocus crap.” Larry spooned some sugar into his cup and returned to his desk. “Otto died when a tree fell on him."
    "Christ, Larry, I was there, remember? It wasn't like that. There's a lot more to it."
    "Oh, I admit, it was pretty freaky. But those are the kinds of things that happen when you run around in the woods during a storm. You were all a bunch of damned fools."
    "But what if all that bad stuff starts happening again? What then?"
    Larry rolled his eyes. “I said no hocus pocus shit. Honestly, Jarvis, you sound as if the devil lives right here in Prairie Rest."
    There was a silence that was so thick and ripe between them they could almost feel it pressing