Drawn

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Drawn Page 32

by James Hankins


  “What’d I forget to do, Papa?”

  Nathan smiled. Alice could tell that he loved when the boy called him Papa.

  “What are you supposed to do when the big clock in the hall winds down?” he asked.

  “Wind it back up. Sorry. I’ll do it now.”

  He started to get out of bed.

  “Whoa, no need,” Nathan said. “I wound it. Listen.” They were quiet. A strong, steady ticking drifted from down the hall. “Beautiful,” Nathan added. “Never let that clock wind down, Miguel. That’s your job and it’s an important one, okay?”

  “Okay, Papa.”

  “Okay then,” Nathan said. He smiled as he withdrew. “Good night.”

  When he was gone, Miguel said, “I like Papa. He’s pretty funny.”

  “I like him, too,” Alice replied.

  “What about Boone?”

  “What about him?”

  “You like him, too?” the boy asked.

  “Do you?”

  Miguel nodded. “I do. He’s a good guy.”

  “I think he’s a good guy, too.”

  “What about…his face?”

  “What about it?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t…bother you?”

  “Well, half of it kind of creeps me out,” she said and Miguel started to nod, “but I really like the other half, the one with all the scars. Pretty cool, right?”

  Miguel look puzzled for a brief moment, then smiled. “So you like him?”

  Alice smiled. “Yeah, I like him. And I’m glad you like him, and that you like Nathan, too, because I have a feeling that we might be spending a lot of time up here.”

  Miguel smiled sleepily and rolled onto his side, facing away from her.

  “Will you stay here a little while?” he asked.

  He still had nightmares now and then, remembering that awful night, and sometimes he asked Alice to lie with him until he fell asleep. As she lay there, she closed her eyes and thought once again about the extraordinary, frightening things they all experienced, the mysteries and hardships, the terrors and fights that brought them together. She thought about Nathan and Boone living together now, Boone living out in the woods, for Pete’s sake, both of them having been alone for years, neither of them lonely anymore. And she thought about Miguel, whose parents had abused then abandoned him, leaving him alone on the streets. She thought about her own life and how empty and childless it had been with Daniel for the past few years, and how it didn’t feel empty anymore. And she thought a little more about Boone.

  Finally, her thoughts turned to Simon Wood, whom she had known for a short time a quarter of a century ago. They’d touched each other’s lives, and though his touch was light, barely leaving a fingerprint on her life, her touch apparently made a deep and lasting impression on his. She never could have imagined the impact she’d had on him all those years ago. Nor could the others when they had interacted with him. But look at them all now.

  And for his part, Simon, wherever he was now, couldn’t possibly have imagined how he had ended up touching their lives in return.

  Alice opened her eyes. Maybe Simon could imagine. Maybe he knew. Maybe this miracle he’d orchestrated hadn’t only been about saving one little boy.

  Maybe it had been about saving them all.

  Outside, a cold January wind tried in vain to find a way inside the house. Down the hall, the clock ticked. Beside Alice, Miguel began to snore softly. Somewhere in the house, Boone laughed and Nathan joined him. And, lying in the dark, Alice smiled.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  In this book, I took a few liberties with the facts, as writers often do. For example, Bloomington Castle is a product of my imagination. But though it doesn’t exist in the real world, its twin inspirations do. Completed in 1915, Searles Castle in Windham, New Hampshire, was built under the direction of Edward F. Searles, a wealthy interior designer and collector of antiques. He engaged a prominent architect to build the home in the style of an English Tudor castle. Although the castle is beautiful and in no way resembles dilapidated Bloomington Castle, its mere existence in New Hampshire helped inspire the setting of the climactic scene in this book. As additional inspiration, I drew upon the historic Lucknow Estate—better known now as the Castle in the Clouds—in Moultonborough, New Hampshire. A bit more manor-like and less castle-like than Searles Castle, the Castle in the Clouds provided the inspiration for the location of Bloomington Castle on Lake Winnipesaukee. While the estate isn’t right on the lake (as is my fictional Bloomington Castle), it perches on a nearby mountaintop and commands a breathtaking view of the lake and its surrounding valley. Again, unlike the Bloomington Castle of my imagination, which has fallen far into a state of disrepair, the Castle in the Clouds, like Searles Castle, remains a well-maintained, majestic structure.

  Another liberty I took, and one more noticeable, I’m sure, to travelers of Route 93 through Massachusetts and into New Hampshire, was with my depiction of the rest stops on that highway. Along that stretch of road, the rest stops are more likely to be small structures with restrooms and vending machines than the bigger, full-service rest stops in this book, which contain fast-food joints and coffee shops selling pastries and bagels. My story needs required that I alter reality in that way, and the story is king; I’m but a willing pawn serving its needs. But I point this out mainly so that people don’t question my ability to remember rest stops accurately.

  I’m sure I took other liberties in the writing of this book, some intentional, others possibly less so. In the end, the reality in this book, along with its author, served the king.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First and foremost, I thank Colleen, my wife and the first reader of my books, who inspires and encourages me every day, in every way. I thank my sons, Zack and Alex, for giving me balance. Thanks also to Don Lamoreaux, a talented writer and my friend, for his valuable insights on this book. Thanks to my family and other friends for their never-ending, always-appreciated interest in my work. As always, sincere thanks to my agent, Michael Bourret of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management, for everything he does for me. Finally, thanks to anyone else who helped me on this book, even if I’ve thoughtlessly forgotten about it and subconsciously decided that I deserve the credit for their contributions.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JAMES HANKINS lives in Massachusetts with his wife and two sons. He used to practice law. Before that he wrote screenplays. Now he writes books and helps raise his boys. Please visit his website at www.jameshankinsbooks.com and like his Facebook page, www.Facebook.com/JamesHankinsAuthorPage.

  ALSO BY JAMES HANKINS

  If you enjoyed DRAWN, please check out these other bestselling thrillers by James Hankins…

  BROTHERS AND BONES

  Charlie Beckham is a rising star among federal prosecutors until a deranged homeless man turns Charlie’s life upside with a single word. He calls Charlie by a secret nickname known by only one other person in the world—Charlie’s brother Jake, who went missing thirteen years ago. Could the homeless man have information about Jake’s whereabouts after all these years? Is it possible that the vagrant actually is Jake? Charlie has a hundred questions but the homeless man disappears before Charlie can ask a single one.

  So begins Charlie’s search for answers, and for his brother, a search that leads him down Boston's darkest streets, into its blackest alleys, and, finally, into its criminal underworld. But if Charlie wants answers he'll have to get them from some of the most feared and ruthless people in the city.

  JACK OF SPADES

  Just two years ago the media turned Detective John Spader into a hero. He’d caught a twisted serial killer terrorizing Massachusetts, and the “Jack of Spades,” as the media dubbed Spader, was born. But when the murderer walked free on a technicality—free to kill again—the public turned on Spader.

  Now a new serial killer is on the loose. He wears the silly, gap-toothed, grinning mask of Galaxo, Starboy Avenger!—a cartoon alien of unparalleled
popularity with children. With the aid of voice-changing technology in the mask, he speaks in the alien’s cheerful, high-pitched, robotic vibrato, the same voice that delights millions of cartoon-watching kids every day. And he does this while he maims, tortures, and murders his victims. With the body count rising, and the public’s fear growing, it’s up to the Jack of Spades to find the man behind the mask and stop the killing.

 

 

 


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