Read Online Dead or Alive by Michael McGarrity - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael McGarrity
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months, Riley and his wife, Lynette, had come to dinner at the ranch several times and the friendship among all of them had deepened.
Breakfast over, Patrick washed his face and hands, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and dressed for preschool. In the drizzle that seemed to be a permanent fixture of the London cityscape, Kerney walked with Patrick through the streets of Knightsbridge to the school, which was housed in a Georgian mansion.
Patrick was still adjusting to living in London, and Kerney wasnât all that much ahead of him. The city was a marvelous place, vibrant, chock full of things to do and see, and they hadnât even scratched the surface. But what father and son both loved best was those afternoons after school when they hurried to the Knightsbridge station, took the tube to Lancaster Gate, walked a few short blocks to Bathurst Mews, and rented horses to ride in Hyde Park.
Tucked on a cobblestone lane in an upscale neighborhood, the mews was a hidden-away combination of stables and small houses converted from stables. Before Kerney and Patrick were allowed to ride in the park without an escort, both had had to show that they were proficient on horseback, which they demonstrated with ease for the certified riding instructor, whoâd voiced serious doubts about Patrickâs ability to handle the spirited pony heâd picked out.
At the school, Kerney gave Patrick a hug, turned him loose, and watched as he skirted the group of children who had already arrived in favor of a quiet corner where storybooks were arranged on a row of low shelves. According to the schoolâs director, Patrick had to be urged to join in group activities and play, and Kerney was beginning to worry some about his usually very gregarious son. When he turned four in a few months, heâd attend a nearby private junior school with an excellent reputation that charged a hefty quarterly tuition. His curriculum as a beginning student in what was called the Small School Department, for children ages four to six, would include English, mathematics, reading, and handwriting, along with exposure to history, geography, French, art, music, religious studies, and sports.
It was a far cry from the early education Kerney had received at the elementary school in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, when he was growing up on the west slope of the San Andres Mountains near the White Sands Missile Range boundary. He hoped time would help Patrick adjust to his new school and surroundings.
Kerney walked home, his thoughts returning to the murder of Riley Burke. Although it wasnât logical, he felt partially responsible for Rileyâs death. If he hadnât asked him to look after the ranch, the young man might be alive today. Kerney knew it made no sense to feel that way, since their partnership required Riley to be at the ranch routinely to care for, exercise, and train the cutting horses. Still, guilt gnawed at him.
He needed to get back to Santa Fe as soon as possible, both to pay his respects and to give whatever support he could to Jack and Irene and Rileyâs wife, Lynette. But before he could book a flight, he had to let Sara know what had happened, and he had to arrange for a nanny to care for Patrick until Sara returned from southeastern England the day after tomorrow. Fortunately, there was a housing board at the U.S. Embassy that could speedily secure the services of a nanny on short notice.
Kerney stopped in front of the house the U.S. government had leased for them. Heâd been amazed to learn they were not required to pay rent or utilities for the property. Instead, Saraâs housing allowance went into a special government pool used to lease quarters for all U.S. personnel living in the UK.
The house theyâd been assigned was part of a nineteenth-century mansion block that came with its own private communal gardens accessed through a locked gate. A redbrick building with tall casement windows, it had
Breakfast over, Patrick washed his face and hands, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and dressed for preschool. In the drizzle that seemed to be a permanent fixture of the London cityscape, Kerney walked with Patrick through the streets of Knightsbridge to the school, which was housed in a Georgian mansion.
Patrick was still adjusting to living in London, and Kerney wasnât all that much ahead of him. The city was a marvelous place, vibrant, chock full of things to do and see, and they hadnât even scratched the surface. But what father and son both loved best was those afternoons after school when they hurried to the Knightsbridge station, took the tube to Lancaster Gate, walked a few short blocks to Bathurst Mews, and rented horses to ride in Hyde Park.
Tucked on a cobblestone lane in an upscale neighborhood, the mews was a hidden-away combination of stables and small houses converted from stables. Before Kerney and Patrick were allowed to ride in the park without an escort, both had had to show that they were proficient on horseback, which they demonstrated with ease for the certified riding instructor, whoâd voiced serious doubts about Patrickâs ability to handle the spirited pony heâd picked out.
At the school, Kerney gave Patrick a hug, turned him loose, and watched as he skirted the group of children who had already arrived in favor of a quiet corner where storybooks were arranged on a row of low shelves. According to the schoolâs director, Patrick had to be urged to join in group activities and play, and Kerney was beginning to worry some about his usually very gregarious son. When he turned four in a few months, heâd attend a nearby private junior school with an excellent reputation that charged a hefty quarterly tuition. His curriculum as a beginning student in what was called the Small School Department, for children ages four to six, would include English, mathematics, reading, and handwriting, along with exposure to history, geography, French, art, music, religious studies, and sports.
It was a far cry from the early education Kerney had received at the elementary school in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, when he was growing up on the west slope of the San Andres Mountains near the White Sands Missile Range boundary. He hoped time would help Patrick adjust to his new school and surroundings.
Kerney walked home, his thoughts returning to the murder of Riley Burke. Although it wasnât logical, he felt partially responsible for Rileyâs death. If he hadnât asked him to look after the ranch, the young man might be alive today. Kerney knew it made no sense to feel that way, since their partnership required Riley to be at the ranch routinely to care for, exercise, and train the cutting horses. Still, guilt gnawed at him.
He needed to get back to Santa Fe as soon as possible, both to pay his respects and to give whatever support he could to Jack and Irene and Rileyâs wife, Lynette. But before he could book a flight, he had to let Sara know what had happened, and he had to arrange for a nanny to care for Patrick until Sara returned from southeastern England the day after tomorrow. Fortunately, there was a housing board at the U.S. Embassy that could speedily secure the services of a nanny on short notice.
Kerney stopped in front of the house the U.S. government had leased for them. Heâd been amazed to learn they were not required to pay rent or utilities for the property. Instead, Saraâs housing allowance went into a special government pool used to lease quarters for all U.S. personnel living in the UK.
The house theyâd been assigned was part of a nineteenth-century mansion block that came with its own private communal gardens accessed through a locked gate. A redbrick building with tall casement windows, it had
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