Read Online Grave Sight by Charlaine Harris - Free Book Online

promise to bring you back by ten? Take her picture so I can track her down when you’re late?”
    Tolliver counted to ten. I could tell by the tiny movements of his head. “No,” he said. “But I worry about you. You’re a strong woman, but a strong woman still isn’t as strong as most men.” This was one of those simple biological truths that made me wonder what God had been thinking. “If he hadn’t taken you to the cemetery, he could have taken you anywhere else. I would have been looking for you, like we track other people.”
    â€œIf anyone in this world is aware that she might be killed at any moment, Tolliver Lang, that person is me.” I pointed at my own chest, my finger rigid. “Amazingly, every day millions of women go out with men who have no ulterior motive whatsoever. Amazingly, almost all of them come home perfectly all right!”
    â€œI don’t care about them. I care about you. How you could ever trust anyone when what we see, so many times a year, is murder. . . .”
    â€œAnd yet, you have no problem inviting a woman you just met into your room!”
    He threw up his hands. “Okay, forget it! Forget I said anything! All I want is to know where you are, and for you to be safe!” He stomped out of my room into his, which required going outside; no connecting doors in this cut-rate motel.
    I heard the television come on in the next room. What had we been quarrelling about? Did Tolliver really want me to sit in my room while he had fun? Did he really want me to turn down every invitation that came my way, in the name of safety?
    I was pretty sure the answer, if you asked him, would be yes.
    During the night, the phone by Tolliver’s bed rang. I could hear it through the thin walls. After a moment, it stopped. I tried to imagine who could know where we were and what we were doing, and in the middle of imagining, I fell back to sleep. I ran the next morning, and in the cold crisp air it felt great. The hot shower felt even better. While I was dressing, Tolliver knocked on my door. After I let him in, I finished buttoning my blouse. I was wearing better clothes since we would be meeting the Ashdown client for the first time. This would be a cemetery job, and I wouldn’t have to change. A quick in-and-out.
    â€œThe call last night,” he said.
    â€œYeah, who was that?” I’d almost forgotten.
    â€œIt was the police in Sarne.”
    â€œWho in the police?”
    â€œHarvey Branscom, the sheriff.”
    I waited, hairbrush in hand.
    â€œWe have to go back.”
    â€œNot until we do this job. Why, what happened?”
    â€œLast night, someone went into Helen Hopkins’ house and beat her to death.”
    I stared at Tolliver for a minute. I was so used to death that it was hard to produce a normal reaction to news like this.
    â€œWell,” I said finally, “I hope it was quick.”
    â€œI told them we’d have to finish our business here first, then we’d drive back up there.”
    â€œI’m ready.” I tucked my blouse in my gray slacks. I pulled on my matching blazer.
    â€œHey, the jacket matches your eyes,” Tolliver said.
    â€œThat was my intent,” I said dryly. Tolliver always seemed to think that if I looked good, it was a happy accident. The blouse I wore with the gray suit was light green, with a kind of bamboo pattern on it. I put on a gold chain that Tolliver had given me the previous Christmas, and slid into black pumps. I fluffed my hair, checked my makeup, and told Tolliver I was ready. He was wearing a long-sleeved cotton pullover sweater in a dark red. He looked very good in it. I’d given it to him.
    We met the client and her lawyer at the designated cemetery, one of those modern ones with flat headstones. They’re cheaper, and more convenient for the mower. Though not atmospheric, the “park” look does make for easier