The Miskatonic Manuscript (Case Files of Matthew Hunter and Chantal Stevens Book 2) by Vin Suprynowicz Page B

when he had told me where his …” several words unintelligible, “… researches were leading; when he had answered my almost frightened queries by driving me from his laboratory and his house in a burst of rage. I knew that he now remained mostly shut in the attic” another hard-to-read scribble — “laboratory,” maybe? “with that accursed electrical machine …”
    “Are you still around, Les?” Matthew raised his voice a little.
    “Not sure what you guys were talking about, but Les went out to the side yard,” Marian said, pretending to be unconcerned. “Everything OK?”
    “Everything is going to be fine, Marian. We’re just going to work together to help Les with his nutrition and his sleep schedule, that’s all. You’ve been very good for him. Right now, though, you could tell him there’s something I need him to look at.”
    Les arrived quickly, took the notebook without a word, carried it over to the better light of one of the bay windows.
    “Notes for a story about the Annesley resonator,” he said, “and then an early draft of ‘From Beyond,’ with a different title. The Lovecraft biographers will go nuts, not to mention the Cthulhians. And as I’m sure you also saw, there’s a sketch. Several.”
    “But the handwriting?”
    “Oh, Lovecraft’s, no question. Practically illegible, as usual, but it’s his.”
    “Marian, we’ll be writing a check to the lady at the bookstore in Deland, Florida. A little more than I originally told her. Talk to me about settling on a finder’s fee after Worthy’s check has cleared; maybe we can help keep another struggling local store in business for a few more months. And Les, there are letters here, one of them signed R.E.H. Handle gingerly. Get them sandwiched into some 5-mil mylar, then we’ll play mix-and-match, see what we can put together. If anything relates to old man Annesley and his resonator it’ll go to Worthy as part of his deal, if not we’ll set them aside and look ’em over later.”
    Matthew dialed Worthy Annesley. He got Bucky the bodyguard, personal assistant, whatever he was.
    “Yes, Bucky, you can give him a message. Tell him we have his ‘Miskatonic Manuscript,’ any time he’d like to drop by and pick it up.”
    When he looked up, Les and Marian and Skeezix were smiling, everyone was smiling except Chantal, whose expression was hard to read. “Marian, it’s only a few pages, see if you can get us a few good photocopies for the file. Then this one had better go in the safe until Worthy stops by. This has to go directly into his hands. He knows the price, we’ll take his check.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Matthew, I need a few moments.” Chantal looked flushed, now, like she’d just run up the hill.
    “Sure, Babe, what’s up?”
    “Upstairs. I need to see you for a few minutes upstairs.”
    “Sure.” He followed Chantal out through the bookstore kitchen and up the back stairs, till they were safely on the second floor.
    “What is it, babe?”
    “What do you think it is, Matthew?” she asked, pressing against him, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and grabbing the back of his head. She curled her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and pulled his head down till she could use her tongue to check the fillings in his teeth.
    “Oh,” he tried to say.
    “Yes, oh.”
    “OK, babe.”
    “Not OK. Taking too long. In the bedroom.”
    “Yes, I agree, the bedroom would be … whoa.”
    Despite the fact she was at least five inches shorter, she managed to route-march him backward down the hall and six or eight steps into the bedroom before something hit the back of his knees. Fortunately he managed to land on the bed. She’d been desperately unfastening his belt, now set to work pulling off his trousers.
    “Don’t you think we should close the door?” he asked.
    “Sure, let’s close the door. Then we can brush our teeth and change into our nighties and you can read me a bedtime story. Ah, there’s