Read The Future Door for Free Online Page B

slightest movement and used language that brought a blush to Griffin’s cheeks. Hearing such fierce oaths, Griffin decided that it might be prudent to try to change the subject and get his uncle’s mind off his injuries.
    Griffin glanced over at his uncle and offered him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, Uncle. We’ll be there soon,” he said. “And when we get there, Dad said that Mother is sure to have a nice meal waiting for us.”
    â€œNot soon enough,” Rupert growled, massaging his injured ribs.
    Griffin sighed and looked out the window. A fine pair of detectives we make , he thought. With his limp and Rupert being down to one usable hand for a while, they looked more like the survivors of a battle than enquiry agents. But Griffin did notice that his encouraging words seemed to have a calming effect on his uncle. Rupert stopped swearing quite so much and suffered the rest of the drive in a pouty silence.
    After about twenty minutes, the carriage turned up Beacon Street, and Griffin noticed the familiar landmarks that told him he was nearing his house.
    There was the oak with fifteen branches; the fence with twelve posts, two knots, and seventeen wormholes. And next to that was the cobblestone path with one thousand three hundred and twenty-six stones . . .
    He’d closely observed all his surroundings from the time he could count. He’d first noticed such details while toddling on walks with his parents as a three-year-old, surprising them as he made note of the distinguishing features of the objects around them. His parents had always been so proud of his observational skills, and in spite of his unique intelligence making him unpopular at school, he always knew that his parents loved him exactly the way he was.
    Thinking of his parents, Griffin’s mind drifted to the conversation he’d had with his father in the hospital shortly after Rupert had been taken there.
    Griffin learned that his father had found him at the pub after the accident because he’d been making his usual rounds in the city, praying with people and visiting the sick. He told Griffin that he saw the wreckage and heard that there was a badly injured man inside the pub. When he’d caught sight of his son, he’d been so surprised that he’d nearly dropped the entire stew pot on the floor!
    Now, many people would have thought it an amazing coincidence that they’d run into each other that day, but since neither Griffin nor his father believed in coincidences, they attributed it instead to an answer to prayer.
    â€œThe Lord works in mysterious ways ,” his father always said. And in Griffin’s experience he’d found it to be true. After all, who in the world could have ever predicted that Griffin and his grumpy uncle would have become friends? That had to be heaven’s work.
    Griffin’s dad had been further astounded when his son had told him about the false telegram that had said the Sharpes had been kidnapped, prompting Griffin and his uncle to travel immediately to Boston.
    But there was still something that troubled him about the whole incident. If Nigel Moriarty was behind the attempt on his and his uncle’s lives, why hadn’t he just tried to get rid of them back in London? For the life of him, Griffin couldn’t figure out why they’d been brought all the way to America just to be killed.
    He mused over the problem as the cab turned down a side street and made its way toward the parsonage where his parents lived. They passed the First Methodist Church of Boston, Griffin’s home away from home in the city. And upon rounding the familiar church with its tall steeple, Griffin felt a surge of excitement that temporarily drove the mystery from his mind.
    He hadn’t seen his mother in weeks, and it would be the first time that she and Rupert had spoken in many years. He could hardly wait to see her!
    But then, after glancing over at his