Perfect Family Read Free

the room, one of her miniature carousel horses smashed, apparently when the burglar was searching for valuables. She’d painstakingly collected them over the past eight years and each was special. She leaned down and picked up the pieces of broken china. One of her favorites.
    But no time to worry about that. She called the police and held a still-trembling Ben as she waited for them. She felt herself trembling. Her sense of safety had been smashed along with the china horse. And the books thrown over the floor. She wanted to gather them up, but she hesitated to do anything until the police arrived.
    At least all but one of her carousel horses had survived. So had the flowering plants that gave the room a sense of warmth. Think of your blessings .
    Jessie called Rob at the bookstore. “I’ll be late. Just lock up if you have to go to class,” she told him, still too stunned to elaborate. Her voice sounded amazingly normal to her own ears.
    She wandered outside and stood on the small porch. The tree-lined street of homes looked as peaceful as always. Located near Emory University, the homes were mostly brick two- and three-bedroom cottages built in the thirties and forties. She’d loved their storybook look and flower-filled yards; they seemed to have so much more character than the new subdivision homes.
    The azaleas had faded, but nearly every house had a colorful year-round garden, including her own. She’d constructed her own garden, a haphazard profusion of lilies, begonias, and impatiens. She’d even planted a magnolia tree.
    It was everything she’d ever pictured, ever wanted, as a child.
    And now it had been violated. She turned around and went back inside, wincing at the destruction.
    She waited for what seemed like an eternity before the doorbell rang—an impatient, authoritative ringing, not that of a casual caller. She tensed, and then wondered whether she would always brace herself whenever she heard a loud sound. She thought she’d moved beyond that fear.
    She put a hand on Ben, reassuring him, when she was the one who really needed reassurance. When she looked out the window, Ben stayed at her side, his tail between his legs as if he’d condemned himself for failing as a watchdog.
    Police . She opened the door.
    Jessie settled in her chair at the bookstore and opened the mail she’d grabbed from the mailbox as she left the cottage after a very unsatisfactory meeting with the police. She was still fuming.
    For the first time, she didn’t take pleasure in being alone in the bookstore that had become her second home. Rob had been gone when she arrived, and Sol was off on one of his research trips. She looked around the book-crammed shop, seeking the familiar sense of contentment. Every inch of shelf space was taken, and boxes full of additional books blocked much of the floor. Sol couldn’t resist an estate sale, and usually she couldn’t wait to open new crates and discover new treasures.
    The Olde Book Shoppe specialized in rare books, and it smelled of leather and old paper and mustiness; even the latter usually gave her pleasure. It denoted substance. Stability. Books whose appeal lasted throughout decades, even centuries. She was seldom lonely here. These were the books of her childhood and youth and adulthood. They were closer to her than any human being had been.
    But their comforting presence didn’t help today. She reached down and touched Ben. He seemed to have shaken whatever had happened—or been given—to him. His tail wagged at last, and she felt better. A little.
    She went back to the mail. Bills. Catalogs. Credit card offers.
    Then she opened the odd-looking envelope that had been stuck in a catalog. It looked personal, but then she had previously received advertisements or pleas for money in deceptively benign packaging.
    Her grumpy mood made her rush to that conclusion, and she held it for a minute or so before opening it.
    Ben