Read The Waiting Game for Free Online Page B

glanced inside the house and shook his head. "The place is empty."
    "You can’t be sure. It’s very dangerous to corner burglars in a house. You’re supposed to go call the cops before going inside."
    "Is that right?" Adrian said vaguely. Then he swung his other leg over the sill and dropped lightly to the floor inside.
    Annoyed, Sara leaned through the window to lecture him further. But the words caught in her throat as she took in the chaos of the room. "Oh, my God."
    "Amen." Adrian walked past a bookcase that had been ransacked and came to a halt in front of the old roll-top desk.
    Feeling stunned, Sara followed him through the window. Inside the house she stood staring in
    speechless dismay as Adrian examined the desk. She remembered the desk well. She had helped
    Lowell select it at a junk shop in Seattle. Her uncle had spent hours refinishing it.
    Now the surface was a jumble of strewn papers, books and magazines. The drawers had been
    unceremoniously hauled open and emptied. Folders of personal business papers had been tossed on the floor along with a notebook of Lowell Kincaid’s sketches.
    Infuriated more than anything else by the way the sketchbook had been dumped on the well-worn
    Oriental rug, Sara bent down to retrieve it. "Stupid bastards," she muttered as she tried to smooth the pages and close the cover. "Whoever it was just wanted to make a mess. I thought we had all the mental flakes down in California."
    "We have a few up here in the Northwest." Adrian walked slowly through the living room into the adjoining kitchen. "Looks like someone really enjoyed himself."
    "It’s sick." Sara wrinkled her nose at the smell of decaying food. The contents of the refrigerator had been thrown against the walls. "Absolutely sick."
    "Or else someone wanted it to look that way," Adrian murmured slowly.
    Sara swung around to stare at him wide-eyed. "Good heavens, I hadn’t thought of that. That’s a possibility, isn’t it? Whoever broke in might have deliberately tried to make it look like the work of vandals. That way no one would be able to figure out what he or she had been looking for."
    "On the other hand, it might have really been a couple of genuine vandals." Adrian shrugged, moving on into the single bedroom.
    "Make up your mind!" Sara hurried after him.
    "How can I? I don’t know what’s going on here any more than you do."
    "Good point." Sara couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Given that basic fact, I guess we’d better go find the local police or sheriff or whatever passes for the law here."
    Adrian paid no attention to her. He was looking at the phone-answering machine that still sat on the table beside the bed. Whoever had gone through the room yanking open drawers and closet doors had ignored the telephone. The red light was gleaming, indicating a message had been recorded.
    "The message on there is probably from me," Sara said quietly. "The one I left when I called him a couple of days ago to let him know I would be arriving. There was no answer, so I just kept driving."
    Adrian pressed the button that rewound the tape. The first voice on the machine was Sara’s, as she had predicted.
    "Uncle Lowell? I’m driving up from California to see you. Just wanted you to know I took your advice.
    Mom and Dad are in a deep depression over the whole thing but I think they’ll survive. Maybe they’re getting used to my life-style changes. Personally, I feel great. You were right. See you tomorrow."
    Sara caught her breath when she heard the next voice on the tape. Her uncle’s easy growl was as unconcerned and laconic as ever.
    "Adrian, if you and Sara are the ones listening to this, then you’ll have realized I have a small problem on my hands. I can’t explain everything just now but don’t worry. We’ll talk later. Pay attention to me.
    This isn’t anything I can’t handle but I need a little time and privacy. Some unfinished business regarding your wedding present, I’m afraid. It’s