Read Online Hard Truth- Pigeon 13 by Nevada Barr - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nevada Barr
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, Suspense, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Large Type Books, Mystery & Detective - General, Colorado, General & Literary Fiction, Pigeon; Anna (Fictitious character), Women park rangers, Fiction & related items, Rocky Mountain National Park (Colo.)
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"Sit down, Mr. Proffit." The words sounded more like a command than an invitation. Not wanting to put him on guard if he wasn't already, Anna smiled nicely. Or thought she did. Proffit looked at her as if she'd bared pointed fangs.
He glanced once more toward the doors the others had disappeared through, then turned back toward Anna and Rita, a dazed expression on his face. "Praise the Lord," he said, and to Anna's surprise, he and her ranger ran into one another's arms. The embrace was of the chaste buddy variety, touching only shoulders, faces turned out.
"Praise the Lord," Rita echoed. Then, to Anna's consternation and annoyance, they dropped to their knees on the linoleum of the waiting room floor and commenced praying out loud.
eight
Why don't you lie down?" Gwen said reasonably. Heath was too tired to be reasonable, too tired to sleep, too tired to do as she was told by aunt or physician. "Later," she said. "Mind if smoke?"
"Not if you don't mind me towing you behind the RV while you do it." It was the answer Heath expected. The one she wanted, really. Though
she smoked-until the accident only three or four a day, but more and
more since-she couldn't stand the smell of cigarette smoke in upholstery, her clothes, her hair. She always smoked out-of-doors then washed and brushed her teeth.
Because she knew it for a filthy habit, it was one of her favorites. Given
the emotional maelstrom that had swept out of the darkling forest and inundated the rest of the night, Heath would have broken the indoor rule just this once. The craving was strong enough she considered promising her aunt she'd hold it out the window. The very power of the addiction was why she didn't give in to it.
"I can wait," she said. "What do you think about that New Canaan invite?"
"Tell me how it came about, again."
With anyone else Heath would have thought they were stalling, beg-ging the question. Aunt Gwen had done neither in Heath's lifelong ex-perience of her. Heath's dad had often said of his older sister, "Gwen's not always right but she's always right there." Till Heath was in her early thir-ties she hadn't understood what he meant. Now she doubted she would have made it through the last half year without it. Gwen Littleton didn't evade, sidestep, lie or equivocate. She lived by what one of her patients had referred to as the Bugs Bunny philosophy of life: Wherever you popped out of the ground, you dealt with what was right in front of you.
Heath thought back as Gwen drove unchallenged through the entrance gate to Rocky Mountain National Park, the booths unmanned at this hour of the night. The account she'd given as they'd left the hospital had been rushed and garbled, as her thoughts were rushed and garbled.
Dropping a hand down to touch Wiley where he slept between the RV's front seats, she settled herself through the warmth and Tightness of dog.
"I'd say it was weird," she began. "But in comparison to what? This whole thing has been gnarly. Rat shit."
"Unnecessary roughness." Gwen was a football fan as well as a fan of refined language.
"Sorry," Heath said, unoffended. "When I was left alone with the limpet we both napped a little. When we woke up she seemed better, clearer. I swear she was about to tell me what had happened."
'"Little animals,' wasn't that what she said?"
"I know. It doesn't make sense but I think it might have if she could have told her story. Mrs. Dwayne chose that moment to bulldoze in with this guy-a ranger, I gathered, though he wasn't wearing the costume. Something is very wrong. Beth looked freaked when she saw her mother. I mean freaked. She wet the bed and started to cry. Her mom tried to hold her and she got hysterical. She leaped out of bed and started darting around-not going anywhere, just banging from wall to wall like a bird trapped in a fireplace. She was babbling 'She's not my mom' and stuff. I started to get up, go to her but, hey, well, guess who remembered she was a cripple?
"Sit down, Mr. Proffit." The words sounded more like a command than an invitation. Not wanting to put him on guard if he wasn't already, Anna smiled nicely. Or thought she did. Proffit looked at her as if she'd bared pointed fangs.
He glanced once more toward the doors the others had disappeared through, then turned back toward Anna and Rita, a dazed expression on his face. "Praise the Lord," he said, and to Anna's surprise, he and her ranger ran into one another's arms. The embrace was of the chaste buddy variety, touching only shoulders, faces turned out.
"Praise the Lord," Rita echoed. Then, to Anna's consternation and annoyance, they dropped to their knees on the linoleum of the waiting room floor and commenced praying out loud.
eight
Why don't you lie down?" Gwen said reasonably. Heath was too tired to be reasonable, too tired to sleep, too tired to do as she was told by aunt or physician. "Later," she said. "Mind if smoke?"
"Not if you don't mind me towing you behind the RV while you do it." It was the answer Heath expected. The one she wanted, really. Though
she smoked-until the accident only three or four a day, but more and
more since-she couldn't stand the smell of cigarette smoke in upholstery, her clothes, her hair. She always smoked out-of-doors then washed and brushed her teeth.
Because she knew it for a filthy habit, it was one of her favorites. Given
the emotional maelstrom that had swept out of the darkling forest and inundated the rest of the night, Heath would have broken the indoor rule just this once. The craving was strong enough she considered promising her aunt she'd hold it out the window. The very power of the addiction was why she didn't give in to it.
"I can wait," she said. "What do you think about that New Canaan invite?"
"Tell me how it came about, again."
With anyone else Heath would have thought they were stalling, beg-ging the question. Aunt Gwen had done neither in Heath's lifelong ex-perience of her. Heath's dad had often said of his older sister, "Gwen's not always right but she's always right there." Till Heath was in her early thir-ties she hadn't understood what he meant. Now she doubted she would have made it through the last half year without it. Gwen Littleton didn't evade, sidestep, lie or equivocate. She lived by what one of her patients had referred to as the Bugs Bunny philosophy of life: Wherever you popped out of the ground, you dealt with what was right in front of you.
Heath thought back as Gwen drove unchallenged through the entrance gate to Rocky Mountain National Park, the booths unmanned at this hour of the night. The account she'd given as they'd left the hospital had been rushed and garbled, as her thoughts were rushed and garbled.
Dropping a hand down to touch Wiley where he slept between the RV's front seats, she settled herself through the warmth and Tightness of dog.
"I'd say it was weird," she began. "But in comparison to what? This whole thing has been gnarly. Rat shit."
"Unnecessary roughness." Gwen was a football fan as well as a fan of refined language.
"Sorry," Heath said, unoffended. "When I was left alone with the limpet we both napped a little. When we woke up she seemed better, clearer. I swear she was about to tell me what had happened."
'"Little animals,' wasn't that what she said?"
"I know. It doesn't make sense but I think it might have if she could have told her story. Mrs. Dwayne chose that moment to bulldoze in with this guy-a ranger, I gathered, though he wasn't wearing the costume. Something is very wrong. Beth looked freaked when she saw her mother. I mean freaked. She wet the bed and started to cry. Her mom tried to hold her and she got hysterical. She leaped out of bed and started darting around-not going anywhere, just banging from wall to wall like a bird trapped in a fireplace. She was babbling 'She's not my mom' and stuff. I started to get up, go to her but, hey, well, guess who remembered she was a cripple?
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