"Picoult, Jodi - Salem Falls v4.0 com" - читать интересную книгу автора (Picoult Jodi)

УCan I just take him home now?Ф
Wes regarded her thoughtfully. It made Addie feel like he was sorting through her mind, opening up certain ideas and shuffling aside others. She closed her eyes.
УSure,Ф Wes said. УFollow me.Ф
He led her down a hallway to a room at the back of the police department. There was a wide desk manned by another officer, a high counter with ink pads for fingerprinting, and in the shadowy distance, a trio of tiny cells. Wes touched her forearm. УIТm not going to write him up, Addie.Ф
УYouТre a real prince.Ф
He laughed and walked off. She heard the barred door slide open like a sword being pulled from its scabbard. УGuess whoТs waiting for you out there, Roy?Ф
Her fatherТs voice now, pouring slow as honey: УMy Margaret?Ф
У ТFraid not. MargaretТs been gone about five years now.Ф
They turned the corner, Wes bearing the brunt of her fatherТs weight. Roy Peabody was a charmer of a man, with hair as white and thick as the inner wing of a dove and blue eyes that always swam with a secret. УAddie!Ф he crowed, seeing her. УHappy birthday!Ф
He lunged for her, and Addie staggered. УCome on, Dad. WeТll get you home.Ф
Wes hooked his thumb on his belt. УYou want a hand getting him out to your car?Ф
УNo, thanks. We can manage.Ф At that moment, her father felt slighter and more insubstantial than Chloe. They walked awkwardly, like contestants in a three-legged race.
Wes held open the door. УWell, shoot, Addie. IТm sorry I had to call you down for this on your birthday.Ф
She did not break stride. УItТs not my birthday,Ф she said, and guided her father out.
At 6:30 that morning, Gillian Duncan had lit a match and waved a thermometer through it, spiking a temperature that made her father believe she truly was too sick to go to school. She spent the morning in her bedroom instead, listening to Alanis Morissette, braiding her long red hair, and painting her fingernails and toenails electric blue. In spite of the fact that she was seventeen years old and could fend for herself, her father had taken the day off from work to be with her. It raised her hackles and secretly pleased her all at once. As the owner of Duncan Pharmaceuticals, the biggest employer in Salem Falls, Amos Duncan was generally regarded as one of its richest and busiest citizens. But then, he had always had time to take care of her; heТd been doing it since Gilly was eight and her mother had died.
She was going crazy in her room and was about to do something really drastic, like pick up a textbook, when the doorbell rang. Listening closely, Gilly heard the voices of her friends downstairs. УHi, Mr. D,Ф said Meg. УHowТs Gillian?Ф
Before he could respond, Whitney interrupted. УWe brought her jellybeans. My mom says they soak up a fever, and if they donТt, they taste so good you donТt care.Ф
УWe brought her homework, too,Ф Chelsea added. Painfully tall, self-conscious, and shy, she was one of GillyТs newest friends.
УWell, thank God youТre all here,Ф her father said. УI have a hard time recognizing Gilly unless sheТs glued to the three of you. Just let me see if sheТs awake.Ф
Gilly dove beneath the covers, trying desperately to look sick. Her father cracked open the door and peered inside. УYou up for company, Gilly?Ф
Rubbing her eyes, Gillian sat up. УMaybe for a little while.Ф
He nodded, then called out to the girls. Meg led the charge up to GillianТs room, a hail of Skechers pounding up the stairs. УI think my whole home could fit in this room,Ф Chelsea breathed, stepping inside.
УOh, thatТs right . . .Ф Whitney said. УThis is the first time youТve been to the manor.Ф
Gillian slanted a look at her father. It was a common joke in town that the reason the Duncan home sat to the east whereas all the other roads and developments sat to the west was because Amos had wanted a palace separate and apart for his kingdom.
УYes,Ф Amos said, with a straight face. УWeТre putting in a drawbridge this spring.Ф
ChelseaТs eyes widened. УFor real?Ф
Whitney laughed. She liked GillianТs dad; they all did. He knew how to make a teenager feel perfectly welcome.
УIf you guys tire her out,Ф Amos said, УIТll make you dig the moat.Ф He winked at Chelsea, then pulled the door closed behind him.
The girls wilted onto the carpet, lilies floating on a pond. УSo?Ф Meg asked. УDid you watch Passions?Ф
Meg Saxton had been GillyТs first best friend. Even as sheТd grown up, she hadnТt lost her baby fat, and her brown hair flew away from her face in a riot of curls.
УI didnТt watch any soaps. I took a nap.Ф
УA nap? I thought you were faking.Ф
Gillian shrugged. УIТm not faking; IТm method-acting.Ф
УWell, FYI, the trig test sucked,Ф Whitney said. The only child of one of the town selectmen, Whitney OТNeill was nothing short of a knockout. SheТd opened the bag of jellybeans to help herself. УWhy canТt we write a spell to get AТs?Ф
Chelsea looked nervously at the large, lovely bedroom, then at Gillian. УAre you sure we can do magick here, with your father right downstairs?Ф
Of course they could-and would-do magick. They had been students of the Craft for nearly a year now; it was why they had gathered this afternoon. УI wouldnТt have invited you if I didnТt think it was okay,Ф Gillian said, withdrawing a black-and-white composition notebook from between the mattress and box spring. Written in bubble letters, with smiley-face OТs, was its title: Book of Shadows. She got out of bed and padded into the large adjoining bathroom. The others could hear her turning on the faucet, and then she returned with an eight-ounce glass of water. УHere,Ф she said, handing it to Whitney. УDrink.Ф
Whitney took a sip, then spat on the floor. УThis is disgusting! ItТs salt water!Ф
УSo?Ф Gillian said. As she spoke, she walked around her friends, sprinkling more salt onto the carpet. УWould you rather waste time taking a bath? Or maybe youТve got a better way to purify yourself?Ф
Grimacing, Whitney drank again, and then passed it to the others. УLetТs do something quick today,Ф Meg suggested. УMy mom will kill me if IТm not home by four-thirty.Ф She scooted into position, across from Gillian on the floor, as Whitney and Chelsea made up the other corners of their square. Gillian reached for WhitneyТs hand, and a cold draft snaked in through a crack in the window. As WhitneyТs palm skimmed over MegТs, the lamp on the nightstand dimmed. The pages of the notebook fluttered as Meg reached for Chelsea. And when Chelsea clasped GillianТs hand, the air grew too thick to breathe.
УWhat color is your circle?Ф Gillian asked Chelsea.
УItТs blue.Ф
УAnd yours?Ф
MegТs eyes drifted shut. УPink.Ф
УMineТs silver,Ф Whitney murmured.
УPure gold,Ф Gillian said. All of their eyes were closed now, but they had learned over the course of the past year that you did not need them open to see. The girls sat, their minds winnowed to this point of power; as one snake of color after another surrounded them, plaited into a thick ring, and sealed them inside.
УNot again,Ф Delilah said with a sigh, as Addie hauled Roy Peabody into the kitchen.
УI donТt need this from you now.Ф Addie gritted her teeth as her father stumbled heavily on the arch of her foot.
УIs that Delilah?Ф Roy crowed, craning his neck. УPrettiest cook in New Hampshire.Ф
Addie managed to push her father into a narrow stairwell that led upstairs to his apartment. УDid Chloe give you any trouble?Ф she called back over her shoulder.
УNo, honey,Ф Delilah sighed. УNo trouble whatsoever.Ф