Read Online Finding Grace by Rhea Rhodan - Free Book Online Page B

too.
    “The detailer? Since when do you send it out?”
    “Well, um, it needed special cleaning. Didn’t Thorne
tell you?” Dagger looked guilty. That was the something else.
    “Nope.” He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. It
had been another long day. “What happened?”
    When Dagger got to the part about lighting the
cigarette, Paul cursed. Of course they made her sick; he could
still see the photos that accompanied the doctor’s report in his
mind’s eye and it was making him sick.
    When Dagger had finished he said, “Karma’s a bitch,
huh, Dagger?”
    “Yeah, and then you die.”
    “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy. Just take
one of the fleet. And get Thorne home, to the door tonight. I’m
sick of this shit, Dagger. I’m not a goddamn den mother.”
    His partner looked at him sharply and opened his
mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut and turned
away.
    Damn it. He was really pissed at Dagger and yet he
couldn’t really blame the man. He supposed he couldn’t really blame
Thorne, either. If those two didn’t work things out soon, he didn’t
know what he’d do.
    * * * *
    They’d driven in darkness and a silence punctuated
by Dagger’s attempts to find some music he liked on the radio. He
didn’t want to think. He hadn’t expected Paul’s reaction. His
friend was protective of Thorne, for some mysterious reason. He’d
expected Paul to be bummed about Thorne getting sick. But he’d
never expected his friend to look at him like he’d tortured the
kid.
    And then there was Thorne, who hadn’t said a word to
him all day. He should be glad. So why wasn’t he? It was fucking
weird.
    Dagger almost jumped when Thorne said, “Would it be
terribly inconvenient for you to stop at the next corner? I see
someone I know. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
    He had to check the seat next to him. The voice was
Thorne’s, but he had no idea who the words belonged to. Definitely
weird.
    He shrugged and nodded. “Sure.” It was later than
yesterday and the traffic was lighter. It wouldn’t be a problem at
all and it wasn’t a bad peace offering, either. Not that he needed
one, right?
    He pulled over and watched as Thorne hopped down and
greeted an old homeless-looking man sitting under an awning. Dagger
powered the window down to overhear the conversation. Why the hell
not? There sure as shit wasn’t anything on the radio worth
listening to. Besides, Thorne was acting strange. He’d better make
sure the guy wasn’t a drug dealer or something. A drug habit would
explain a lot about Thorne.
    “Hey Jefferson, what’re ya doin’ out here? It’s too
cold to be sitting on the ground. You should be in the
shelter.”
    “Aw Thorne, you know I hate that place. Too much
preachin’.”
    “Yeah, I know, I know. But at least you wouldn’t get
sick.” Dagger saw Thorne shake his head like he’d had this
conversation fifty times.
    “Too late for that, Thorne. I been sick a long
time.”
    Thorne reached into his backpack and pulled out
something that looked like a candy bar. Dagger squinted. The
streetlight revealed that it was square—a granola bar? He grimaced
in disgust.
    “Eat this at least.”
    Jefferson looked more appreciative than Dagger
thought was warranted. That poor bastard must really be hungry.
    “And hey, I brought you something else.”
    Thorne reached in again and produced a pair of thick
socks. “Just finished ’em. A wool-alpaca blend this time. Try ’em
on, I bet the old ones already have holes.”
    The old man pulled off oversized shoes and pulled
the new socks over the old ones. He wiggled his toes and gave
Thorne a big toothless grin. “Say, these are nice. Real soft.
Thanks, Thorne.”
    “Warm too, you’ll see. Glad you like them. I gotta
go. See ya, Jefferson.”
    No kind of weird could have prepared Dagger for that
exchange. He barely managed to get the window closed in time.
    Thorne climbed back into the Escalade. “Thanks,
Jack. He moves around;