Crossroads Revisited Read Online Free Page B

voices in the background, Emily’s and a man’s. He
couldn’t make out the words, but heard her laugh once. As always, the sonorous
chuckle reassured him. Damn, she shouldn’t have to be going through this again,
whatever this evolved into.  After losing her husband in a botched bank
robbery, and raising two kids on her own, she had a right to a normal life.
    “That was an interesting conversation,”
she said, returning.
    “Who came calling?”
    “One of Rand’s professors. He said Rand
left a notebook on his desk yesterday so he looked up our address in the office
and dropped it off on his lunch hour. Thought maybe Rand would need it before
tomorrow.”
    “That’s our boy, always on the ball.”
    “I think he’s been stricken with
Attention Deficit Disorder since his father died, but anyway, you were telling
me about the dreams.”
    “Dreams, what dreams?”
    “Stop it, Frank. You’re making me
edgier, if that’s possible.”
    “Okay, the dreams involve Rand.”
    “What!” The hysterics returned.
    “I told you they were muddied, they
don’t mean anything at this point.”
    “Oh, don’t tell me that. Your dreams
always mean something even if they are fucked up. I’m scared, Frank. The
parents are convinced there’s another serial killer stalking the college and
the FBI insists they’re acting out of panic and misinformation.”
    “What do you think?”
    “Come on, you’ve got to be kidding! Five
students dead after leaving a bar, found in the river? What are the odds?”
    “The FBI claims it happens all the time.
College kids are prime candidates for alcohol-related deaths running the gamut
from falling off balconies, poisonings, car accidents or other freak
accidents.”
    “No one fell off a balcony, their blood
alcohol content showed intoxication, but not enough to cause death, and they
did not die in car accidents. Freak accidents all right, as in some freak killed them.”
    “Settle down. Maybe the toxicology
reports showed something the police aren’t divulging right now.”
    “Like what?”
    “Oh, I don’t know…drug use or some other
commonality. You know drug users come in all forms, ages.” Thinking about his
discussion with Rand that morning, he visibly cringed. If the little fucker had
lied to him again, he’d have to send him packing. “I’ve promised Hayworth―”
    “Who’s Hayworth?”
    “The agent Washington sent to
investigate. I promised him I’d go over the file. He’s bringing it to me
tonight.”
    “Thank God, and you’ll attend the
meeting tomorrow night at City Hall?”
    “I’ll be there, Emily, promise.”
    She blew a sigh of relief. “You sure
you’re not holding anything back about Rand?”
    “Not a thing,” he said, and called
himself a liar. “I gotta run, sweet lips. I’ll call you tomorrow after I review
the file.”
    “Sweet lips. The name brings back so
many fond memories.”
    Frank laughed as an image of Emily’s
husband flashed before him. “I used to call you that all the time just to piss
Quinn off. Told him one day I’d be kissing those sweet lips.”
    “What did he say?” she asked with a
sniffle.
    “He said, ‘Yeah, when you come back
reincarnated as a hot-blooded straight guy.’ I told him at least he had the
hot-blooded part right.”
    He loved it when she laughed, always
had. “You’ll call me tomorrow?”
    “You can count on it, Em.”
    “Love you, Frank.”
    “Ditto,” he said and clicked end on his cell phone.
    The black cloud descended again, whether
from talking about the dreams with Emily or from the visit with the FBI and
Jeffords, he didn’t know. He leaned back in the chair with his head resting
against the soft leather and closed his eyes. How could this be fucking
happening again?

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
     
    Frank knew he was in over his head when
it came to Rand, but the time had passed for recriminations and told-you-sos.
The kid was beautiful,