Mystery & Suspense
Read an excerpt from A Plague of Secrets (continued):
Neither Treya nor Abe had called yet with any report from the hospital. Hardy, hamstrung by his overwhelming sense of dread, had his hand around the stem of his glass but hadn't yet brought it to his lips. He simply stared at the fire.
Frannie must have hung up, because she was now standing in the portal that separated their dining and living rooms. "Diz?"
He turned his head toward her, perhaps surprised to see her there, appearing out of thin air the way she had. "Hey."
She crossed the remaining few steps to him and sat on the ottoman at his feet. "You've been just sitting there since I've been in this doorway without moving a muscle."
"Isometric exercise. Every muscle tensed for maximum effect." But there was no humor in it.
"Are you all right?"
He shrugged, his effort to smile halfhearted at best. "How's Vinnie?"
"Good. He got a B-plus on his first poly-sci exam."
"Slacker."
"He wanted to know if we needed him to come up. He said he would. I told him I didn't think so."
"Probably right. Nothing for him to do."
"You either," Frannie said. "Just be there for them if they need us."
Sighing, Hardy shook his head. "You think this stuff is buried so deep down, and next thing you know you're blindsided by it."
Frannie hesitated, but she knew what he was talking about. "Michael?"
Hardy's firstborn son had died in infancy thirty-five years before. A precocious seven-month-old, he'd stood up in his crib well before he was supposed to be able to and had pitched over the guardrail that they'd kept at half-mast. He had landed on his head.
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