Read Symphony of Light and Winter for Free Online

be throwing you a party. Now go get dressed. We’re going to O’Riley’s as usual. Hopefully we can ask her tonight when she shows up. No more sulking.” Clarence nudged me toward my bedroom.
    I glared at him, but he had a point. Olivia was always on me about not dating, but I refused to put anyone else at risk after what happened to Michael.
    “Do you think she’ll show up? I’m really worried.” I damned Cyril again. If I hadn’t been so distracted I might have noticed she wasn’t poking around.
    “Let’s get moving. Mr. Landon thinks she was supposed to be with us. We’ve lost our biggest donor’s daughter. We’ve got to fucking find her, or we’ll never make goal next year.” He shooed me.
    “Clarence! That’s awful. Something bad could have happened to her. She’s never done this before.”
    “I’m going to put my money on this being another one of her dumb-ass attention-getting stunts.” He pointed to the bedroom.
    “All right, I’m going. Just give me a second.” In the bedroom, I pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a black cotton shirt. I stepped into a pair of dress shoes, checked my hair and makeup, and returned to the living room.
    “I’ll drive.” Being alone in the car with Clarence, answering all his damn questions, didn’t appeal to me, but I grabbed my keys from the bowl anyway.
    Thirty minutes later, I pulled into O’Riley’s. Easy to miss, the pub sat situated in an alcove between a jewelry store and a photography shop about two blocks from the concert hall. Clarence, Olivia, and I spent at least two nights a week in the establishment. Mondays were a standing date. The wind stung my face when I opened the car door and stepped out into the crisp night air.
    “OK, so after that? What did Olivia have to say when you talked to her?” I asked while trying to keep pace with Clarence’s long strides.
    “Not much. She seemed distracted. I think this latest pregnancy has her realizing it’s never going to happen with Harmon.”
    “She’s had to deal with this three other times and never reacted this way. I know she’s flaky, but usually I’m trying to get rid of her. This is not like her; she always returns my calls.”
    Clarence shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s depressed. When we find her, if she doesn’t have a good explanation, we’ll threaten to have Mr. Landon cut off the trust fund.”
    I snickered as he pushed open the heavy, ironbound door and held it for me. I slipped past him, taking in the rich woodwork. The lights set low in Tiffany-style lampshades, depicting green and gold Celtic knot work, hung at various places above the bar and over each table. A woodsy, manly smell, accented by lemon-scented wood polish, permeated the air.
    Clarence paused to glance toward the television above the bar featuring an Irish soccer game. He casually added, “By the way, it would have been nice to know you were leaving work.”
    I anticipated the lecture and was surprised it took him so long to start. “The last time I checked, I didn’t report to you.” I forced a smile. “Besides, did you really think I wanted to hear any more nonsense about Friday night?”
    He ushered me toward my seat. “Friday night is old news. Let’s have a beer and figure out where we should head next. With any luck she’ll show up.”
    We took our seats in the usual spot at the end of the long bar. Phil O’Riley, the owner and bartender on duty, wiped a towel across the bar.
    “The usual?” Phil asked.
    Clarence and I nodded.
    Phil brought me a Guinness, slipping a white napkin embossed with a green shamrock under my glass. Clarence’s glass of whatever’s on tap and light was glimmering amber glory in the bar lights. Clarence wasn’t a beer snob.
    I wrapped my hand around the glass, smoothing the sweat over the surface. “Phil, have you seen Olivia?”
    Phil brushed his shoulder-length, curly red hair behind his ear and squinted. His Irish accent thick, “Are ye talkin’