The Suicide Forest (The River Book 5) Read Online Free Page A

the
poor woman even more.”
    “She’ll be worried that we’re not going to help her,” Steven
said. “Either way, she’ll worry.”
    “Until we know what we’re dealing with,” Roy said, “I’d
rather have her thinking we’re out of the picture. I’m serious about this, son.
I know you want to calm her nerves, but if she starts thinking or saying we’re
still going to help, it might get her killed.”
    “OK,” Steven said. “I’ll be careful.”
    “Jesus Christ, what have we gotten ourselves into?” Roy said,
leaning back in his seat and taking a long exhale. He turned to look out the
window as the houses went by.
     
    ◊
     
    Steven jumped off the boat and helped guide Dixon into the
slip. He and Roy had gone to see Dixon at his boat in Ballard, and Dixon had
suggested they visit someone who lived in Gig Harbor. Then Dixon had insisted
on taking them across the sound to meet the person he’d recommended.
    “She’s up that hill, house at the top,” Dixon said as Roy
stepped off the boat. He handed Roy a card. “Here’s her name and address,”
Dixon said. “Be nice to her, ‘cause you need her help. But don’t let her bully
you.”
    Bully you? Steven thought. With Roy, it was usually the other way
around.
    “You’ll wait here for us?” Roy asked Dixon.
    “I’ll be here,” he said, knocking out his pipe and refilling
it. “Just don’t take all day.”
    “Alright,” Roy said, joining Steven and beginning the march
up the hill from the marina. They passed several marine shops, which turned to
tourist gift shops after another block.
    “Always liked this place,” Steven said. “Very picturesque.”
    “Full of snobs,” Roy said. “Worse than Mercer Island.” Steven
knew better than to argue with him. Arguing over these types of things with Roy
never ended well.
    They walked in silence up the hill as the gift shops gave way
to homes. As they reached the top, they began checking house numbers.
    “1057,” Steven said. “It’s the next one.”
    They both glanced up at the next house, an old three story
gothic mansion from the late 19 th century. It looked right out of a
horror movie, except it was well cared for and was surrounded by flowers. They
walked up to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Above the doorbell was a
tiny sign that read: “No solicitors or missionaries.”
    A tall, thin woman in her mid-thirties opened the door. She
was dressed in a classic maid uniform, something Steven hadn’t seen outside of
television. She invited them in.
    “We’re here to see Mrs. Judith Duke,” Roy said. “I think
she’s expecting us.”
    “Please follow me,” the maid said, escorting them into a
small room just inside the entryway. There were several chairs and sofas in the
room, and several cases of books on the walls. “Would you wait here while I
inform Mrs. Duke that you’ve arrived?”
    “Of course,” Roy said. The maid pulled the door closed behind
them.
    “Fancy place,” Steven said, looking at a marble bust on a
shelf.
    “I wonder if she earned it,” Roy said, “or if she inherited
it. Dixon said she’s the best he knows on the subject. Maybe you should let me
do the talking?”
    “When do I not?” Steven asked, continuing to admire the
objects in the room.
    The door opened again, and the maid said, “Mrs. Duke is ready
to see you. Would you both please follow me?”
    They followed the maid as she led them upstairs to a room on
the second floor. “Mrs. Duke is a little incapacitated today, and doesn’t have
the strength for the stairs, so she’ll be seeing you in the upstairs sitting
room. If you wouldn’t mind limiting your visit so as to not tire her
excessively.”
    “Of course,” Roy said.
    “Mr. Roy Hall and Mr. Steven Hall,” the maid said as they
entered the dark sitting room. At the far end was Mrs. Judith Duke, reclining
on a daybed. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a state of perfection.
Her skin was dark and wrinkled, the result