Read Online Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island by Sandy Frances Duncan, George Szanto - Free Book Online Page A

of days.” And forward. “Or later this week.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous. He has to be training.”
    â€œMaybe. But not here.”
    Arensen exploded a puff of irritated air, started to stride away, turned quickly. “Carl Certane in?”
    â€œShould be. Down the hall to—”
    â€œI know, I know.”
    To Carl’s office, then. Even had Carl’s name on it, black lettering. He grabbed the knob, turned it, pushed. A large cluttered desk, computer and papers. A tall man, broad in his hunched shoulders, sitting with his back to the desk, walls covered with photos and posters of skaters. One paper-filing cabinet. Couple of chairs. “Carl, where the hell is Shane?”
    The man turned—a frowning face, narrow nose, thick shock of white hair. “That’s a door there, Harold. They’re made to knock on.”
    â€œSorry, sorry. But why don’t you have Shane in training?”
    â€œHe is training.”
    â€œWhere? I want to see what he’s doing.”
    â€œWell, head up to Campbell River.”
    â€œCampbell—? What the hell’s all this about?”
    â€œSit down, Harold, before you explode.”
    Yeah, Harold could feel his face had gone red. Damn blood pressure. But not something to worry about now. He sat. He spoke slowly, deliberately. “Okay. Campbell River. Why Campbell River?”
    â€œBecause that’s where he’s from. Quadra Island.”
    â€œSo what, is he on vacation or something? There’s not much training time left and—”
    â€œHe does have a bit of a personal life, Harold.”
    â€œHey, what’s this? Some girl?”
    â€œHe doesn’t know what a girl is, so just relax. He’s got a brother who’s in a coma. Shane’s spending some time there.”
    â€œYeah, but what about his work?”
    â€œThere’s a pretty good rink there. I got him excellent ice time.”
    â€œPretty good rink? Gimme a break, Carl.”
    Carl shrugged. “It was used a couple of decades ago for a world’s finals—junior women’s hockey. He gets whatever time he needs, whenever. And he’s not far from his brother. Close by he worries less about what’s going on.”
    â€œWomen’s hockey, for pissake! That’s no figure skating rink.” He got up, stared down at Carl. “You trying to ruin him?” He stormed out of the office.
    â€œWhere you going?” called Carl.
    â€œHome. Where I should never have left.” Back to the Lincoln. Back to the ferry. The return trip began to soothe him. Then, in Active Pass, he thought: Shit on it! Campbell River, that’s right next to Quadra Island. Which, if he remembered right, was where Austin Osborne had a home. Osborne had been supporting Shane, Harold knew this. Goddamn Osborne! Always dangerous.

THREE
    Jason and Kyra, Cindy trailing, walked downstairs. Jason pushed open a side door. “Car’s parked in the next lot,” said Kyra.
    â€œWe can cut through the garden.”
    The garden, a quiet green space that featured mown grass, scattered trees and benches, also held a number of sculpted pieces—a figure of a despairing woman in chiseled wood; a ten-foot metallic serpent rising from its coiled tail, called River Spirit; a hand rising from the ground that stood taller than Kyra, holding an enormous egg. Noel snapped pictures with his cell. “What’s with all these?”
    â€œNo idea,” Jason said, and led the way.
    Kyra felt unclear regarding Jason Cooper. She granted him his distress—son in a coma with no end in sight would be upsetting. But if she and Noel were to learn anything about the comatose kid, Jason would have to be more forthcoming. “Noel said Derek was found by an old lady with a dog.”
    â€œShe’s known up there, walks the dog at night, says she hardly ever sleeps,” said Jason, without turning around. “Got home and called