Read Online Laura Lippman by Tess Monaghan 04 - In Big Trouble (v5) - Free Book Online Page B
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break, heading back to Quadling Country to wile away the hours until the clubs started opening. A late-afternoon run along the paths near Town Lake gave Tess a glimpse into Austin’s charms. Here was a city, that worshipped fitness, that accommodated those who exercised. Quite unlike Baltimore, where chain-smoking drivers liked to force runners off the roads for the sheer sport of it. It should have been a perfect fit for her. If only Tess believed in perfect fits. Thanks to Kitty, she had been raised on the real Brothers Grimm, where Cinderella’s sisters sliced off their toes and heels to cram their feet into that stupid glass slipper.
A few scullers and sweep rowers were working out, and she found she missed her own unpretentious little Alden. The rowing season was almost over in Baltimore, she would lose some of the best days if she stayed here too long. But she would be home soon, she reminded herself. Things were simpler than she or Crow’s parents had realized. He had moved out to be with a woman. She’d probably find him—and her—on Sixth Street tonight. All she had to do was walk him to a pay phone, and she was out of here.
So why had he stopped calling his parents ? she asked herself, as she ran along Town Lake. How to explain the postcard? Crow might still be angry enough to play such a prank on her, but why would he want to worry his parents?
Her best guess was that carelessness was the prerogative of sons and daughters everywhere, at every age. After all, she hadn’t called her parents since she arrived in Texas, and she waited to phone Tyner’s office until last night, when she was sure of getting the machine. There were times when one was in too much of a hurry—or too much in love—to stop and talk to anyone.
It was after ten and they were walking north along the street that bordered the west side of the UT campus when Maury said: “You want to stop and get something to eat? I’m dragging. There’s a good place not too far.”
“Vegetarian?” Tess asked skeptically. She was dragging, too, although not from hunger. It had been depressing, going from music club to music club, showing photos of Crow—one as Tess had known him, with his dyed dreadlocks, and the one in the newspaper clipping. Have you seen him? Have you seen him ? No one had.
“Barbecue.”
“Barbecue? I thought you had given up red meat.”
“Sure, at home. But I can eat what I want when I’m out—as long as I brush my teeth before I come home. I can come home smelling of marijuana, but if Dad catches a whiff of burger on me, I’m grounded.”
The thing was, no one here knew Crow or Edgar or Ed or Eddie. They had started with the better places, along Sixth Street, where the local headliners played. And, as Maury kept telling her, a local headliner in Austin was a pretty big deal in the city that was home to Willie Nelson, Shawn Colvin and a lot of other people that Tess had never heard of. Then they had worked their way out and out and out, in ever-widening circles, until they were checking depressed little bars where some kid might be allowed to play in the silences between televised sporting events. Still, no one remembered a guy named Ransome, with or without a doll-like girl.
Now she and Maury were walking through the university section, just in case Crow and his band had been reduced to playing for handouts.
“Or we could go to Sonic,” Maury offered. “Get a chili dog.”
Tess could accept that no one had hired Crow, although she had always thought Poe White Trash as good as any punk band she had heard. It was harder to believe that no one remembered him. Crow had been so vivid, so alive. He had always made an impression on people.
“Can’t you even remember if he ever came in here looking for work?” Tess had asked one club manager.
The manager was the kind of person who never made eye contact, keeping his gaze riveted over one’s shoulder, in case someone more interesting might appear on the
A few scullers and sweep rowers were working out, and she found she missed her own unpretentious little Alden. The rowing season was almost over in Baltimore, she would lose some of the best days if she stayed here too long. But she would be home soon, she reminded herself. Things were simpler than she or Crow’s parents had realized. He had moved out to be with a woman. She’d probably find him—and her—on Sixth Street tonight. All she had to do was walk him to a pay phone, and she was out of here.
So why had he stopped calling his parents ? she asked herself, as she ran along Town Lake. How to explain the postcard? Crow might still be angry enough to play such a prank on her, but why would he want to worry his parents?
Her best guess was that carelessness was the prerogative of sons and daughters everywhere, at every age. After all, she hadn’t called her parents since she arrived in Texas, and she waited to phone Tyner’s office until last night, when she was sure of getting the machine. There were times when one was in too much of a hurry—or too much in love—to stop and talk to anyone.
It was after ten and they were walking north along the street that bordered the west side of the UT campus when Maury said: “You want to stop and get something to eat? I’m dragging. There’s a good place not too far.”
“Vegetarian?” Tess asked skeptically. She was dragging, too, although not from hunger. It had been depressing, going from music club to music club, showing photos of Crow—one as Tess had known him, with his dyed dreadlocks, and the one in the newspaper clipping. Have you seen him? Have you seen him ? No one had.
“Barbecue.”
“Barbecue? I thought you had given up red meat.”
“Sure, at home. But I can eat what I want when I’m out—as long as I brush my teeth before I come home. I can come home smelling of marijuana, but if Dad catches a whiff of burger on me, I’m grounded.”
The thing was, no one here knew Crow or Edgar or Ed or Eddie. They had started with the better places, along Sixth Street, where the local headliners played. And, as Maury kept telling her, a local headliner in Austin was a pretty big deal in the city that was home to Willie Nelson, Shawn Colvin and a lot of other people that Tess had never heard of. Then they had worked their way out and out and out, in ever-widening circles, until they were checking depressed little bars where some kid might be allowed to play in the silences between televised sporting events. Still, no one remembered a guy named Ransome, with or without a doll-like girl.
Now she and Maury were walking through the university section, just in case Crow and his band had been reduced to playing for handouts.
“Or we could go to Sonic,” Maury offered. “Get a chili dog.”
Tess could accept that no one had hired Crow, although she had always thought Poe White Trash as good as any punk band she had heard. It was harder to believe that no one remembered him. Crow had been so vivid, so alive. He had always made an impression on people.
“Can’t you even remember if he ever came in here looking for work?” Tess had asked one club manager.
The manager was the kind of person who never made eye contact, keeping his gaze riveted over one’s shoulder, in case someone more interesting might appear on the
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