The Sky Is Falling by Sidney Sheldon Page A

there would be no problem. “Kemal and I are looking forward to it.”
     
     
    When Dana picked Kemal up at school, she said, “You’re going to meet your grandmother. We’re going to be a real family, darling.”
    “Dope.”
    Dana smiled. “Dope is right.”
     
     
    Early Saturday morning Dana and Kemal drove to Connecticut. Dana looked forward to the trip to Westport with great anticipation.
    “This is going to be wonderful for everyone,” Dana assured Kemal. “All grandparents need grandchildren to spoil. That’s the best part of having children. And you’ll be able to stay with them some of the time.”
    Kemal said nervously, “Will you be there, too?”
    Dana squeezed his hand. “I’ll be there.”
     
     
    Peter Tomkins’s home was a charming old cottage on Blind Brook Road, with a small stream running alongside it.
    “Hey, this is cool,” Kemal said.
    Dana ruffled Kemal’s hair. “I’m glad you like it. We’ll come here often.”
    The front door of the cottage opened, and Eileen Evans stood there. There were still vague traces of beauty left, like clues to what once was, but bitterness had overlaid the past with a harsh brush. It was a Dorian Gray situation. Her beauty had gone into Dana. Standing beside Eileen was a middle-aged, pleasant-faced man wearing a broad smile.
    Eileen rushed forward and took Dana in her arms. “Dana, darling! And there’s Kimbal!”
    “Mother…”
    Peter Tomkins said, “So this is the famous Dana Evans, eh? I’ve told all my clients about you.” He turned to Kemal. “And this is the boy.” He noticed Kemal’s missing arm. “Hey, you didn’t tell me he was a cripple.”
    Dana’s blood froze. She saw the shock on Kemal’s face.
    Peter Tomkins shook his head. “If he had had insurance with our company before that happened, he’d be a rich kid.” He turned toward the door. “Come on in. You must be hungry.”
    “Not anymore,” Dana said tightly. She turned to Eileen. “I’m sorry, Mother. Kemal and I are going back to Washington.”
    “I’m sorry, Dana. I—”
    “So am I. I hope you’re not making a big mistake. Have a nice wedding.”
    “Dana—”
    Dana’s mother watched in dismay as Dana and Kemal got into the car and drove away.
    Peter Tomkins looked after them in astonishment. “Hey, what did I say?”
    Eileen Evans sighed. “Nothing, Peter. Nothing.”
     
     
    Kemal was silent on the ride home. Dana glanced at him from time to time.
    “I’m so sorry, darling. Some people are just ignorant.”
    “He’s right,” Kemal said bitterly. “I am a cripple.”
    “You’re
not
a cripple,” Dana said fiercely. “You don’t judge people by how many arms or legs they have. You judge them by what they are.”
    “Yeah? And what am I?”
    “You’re a survivor. And I’m proud of you. You know, Mr. Charming was right about one thing — I’m hungry. I guess it wouldn’t interest you, but I see a McDonald’s ahead.”
    Kemal smiled. “Awesome.”
     
     
    After Kemal went to bed, Dana walked into the living room and sat down to think. She turned on the television set and started surfing the news channels. They were all doing follow-up stories on the Gary Winthrop murder.
    “…hoping that the stolen van might offer some clues to the identity of the murderers…”
    “…two bullets from a Beretta. Police are checking all gun shops to…”
    “…and the brutal murder of Gary Winthrop in the exclusive northwest area proved that no one is…”
    There was something at the back of Dana’s mind, teasing her. It took her hours to get to sleep. In the morning, when Dana awakened, she suddenly realized what had been bothering her.
Money and jewels were lying in the open. Why hadn’t the killers taken them
?
    Dana got up and made a pot of coffee while she reviewed what Chief Burnett had said.
    Do you have a list of the stolen paintings?
    We do. They’re all well known. The list is being circulated to museums, art dealers, and collectors.