of the mirror. It made her seem that much more vulnerable in his eyes.
“I haven’t decided yet, but when I do, I’ll give you as much time as possible,” he was leaning toward selling the house, but dealing with it now was not a priority. A squirrel caught his attention as it peeled across the telephone line like a four-legged circus performer on speed. His eyes dropped down when the squirrel disappeared behind the pole, and he noticed the fishing boat sitting in the corner of the yard just inside the fence. Last year’s grass was growing around the trailer wheels and up around the axles. His father had named the boat “Sea of Tranquility IV” and painted the name at the back of boat on the flat portion where the motor mounted. He thought back to the good chuckle he and Jake had shared when they saw the name and had to ask the great Captain Hubert what happened to I, II, and III. It occurred to him at that time that he’d include the boat when he sold the house.
They sat on the deck without talking for a few minutes, and Elliot realized that he felt totally content for the first time in a long time. This feeling was not the result of being relaxed and having no pressing matters on his mind. Au contraire, although he was faced with a situation that was consuming his every thought, he was finally doing what he was meant to do. After a lifetime of preparing himself to serve Lady Justice, he was actually doing something about it, and all it took to get me started was the murder of my father, he thought.
The deck they were sitting on was “L” shaped with the bigger area spread across the entire width of the back of the house. The lesser portion of the “L” was an alcove on the back right of the house where the patio door was located. Even though there were houses on each side as well as behind the house, it was a private, even intimate setting. The few noises from the city around them were swept away by the warm spring breeze that percolated through the trees in the yard, and when Elliot closed his eyes, he could easily imagine he was somewhere far away from humanity and the problems in his life. He heard Anne pick up her book but didn’t let it interrupt his peace. He pushed the case out of his mind, concentrated on nothing and allowed himself to skip off the surface of sleep until he eventually heard the rustle of fabric as Anne repositioned herself in her chair. He opened his eyes and saw that she was holding her book but looking at him. He had to suppress the urge to reach out and touch her hand. She had a peculiar look on her face that reminded him of the way Sarah sometimes looked at Jake when he was napping as a tyke. He could have sat there all afternoon, but duty was calling like a distant voice on the wind. He forced himself back to the present.
He noticed the book Anne was reading, a James Lee Burke novel called Purple Cane Road.
“I haven’t read that one. Is it good?” he asked.
“Yes, I love the Dave Robicheaux novels,” she replied. “I like the way he captures the atmosphere of the Deep South. The way he describes the New Orleans area and the people who live there tells me that there are still places where people can live the simple life. Free from all the corruption and depravity we see in the city.”
”I agree. Burke is a master,” he replied as he got up to leave. To his surprise, Anne got up with him and gave him a hug. It may have been his imagination, but it seemed that she hung on to the hug just a little longer and little tighter than protocol called for.
Walking through the house to go to the car, Elliot thought back to her comments about the book; her cynicism had taken him by surprise. Although he didn’t know Anne well, he didn’t expect her to have such a jaded interpretation of the world. There was definitely more to Anne than he imagined, and he’d be interested one day to hear her story.
Chapter 20
Elliot spent the rest of the morning and early
“I haven’t decided yet, but when I do, I’ll give you as much time as possible,” he was leaning toward selling the house, but dealing with it now was not a priority. A squirrel caught his attention as it peeled across the telephone line like a four-legged circus performer on speed. His eyes dropped down when the squirrel disappeared behind the pole, and he noticed the fishing boat sitting in the corner of the yard just inside the fence. Last year’s grass was growing around the trailer wheels and up around the axles. His father had named the boat “Sea of Tranquility IV” and painted the name at the back of boat on the flat portion where the motor mounted. He thought back to the good chuckle he and Jake had shared when they saw the name and had to ask the great Captain Hubert what happened to I, II, and III. It occurred to him at that time that he’d include the boat when he sold the house.
They sat on the deck without talking for a few minutes, and Elliot realized that he felt totally content for the first time in a long time. This feeling was not the result of being relaxed and having no pressing matters on his mind. Au contraire, although he was faced with a situation that was consuming his every thought, he was finally doing what he was meant to do. After a lifetime of preparing himself to serve Lady Justice, he was actually doing something about it, and all it took to get me started was the murder of my father, he thought.
The deck they were sitting on was “L” shaped with the bigger area spread across the entire width of the back of the house. The lesser portion of the “L” was an alcove on the back right of the house where the patio door was located. Even though there were houses on each side as well as behind the house, it was a private, even intimate setting. The few noises from the city around them were swept away by the warm spring breeze that percolated through the trees in the yard, and when Elliot closed his eyes, he could easily imagine he was somewhere far away from humanity and the problems in his life. He heard Anne pick up her book but didn’t let it interrupt his peace. He pushed the case out of his mind, concentrated on nothing and allowed himself to skip off the surface of sleep until he eventually heard the rustle of fabric as Anne repositioned herself in her chair. He opened his eyes and saw that she was holding her book but looking at him. He had to suppress the urge to reach out and touch her hand. She had a peculiar look on her face that reminded him of the way Sarah sometimes looked at Jake when he was napping as a tyke. He could have sat there all afternoon, but duty was calling like a distant voice on the wind. He forced himself back to the present.
He noticed the book Anne was reading, a James Lee Burke novel called Purple Cane Road.
“I haven’t read that one. Is it good?” he asked.
“Yes, I love the Dave Robicheaux novels,” she replied. “I like the way he captures the atmosphere of the Deep South. The way he describes the New Orleans area and the people who live there tells me that there are still places where people can live the simple life. Free from all the corruption and depravity we see in the city.”
”I agree. Burke is a master,” he replied as he got up to leave. To his surprise, Anne got up with him and gave him a hug. It may have been his imagination, but it seemed that she hung on to the hug just a little longer and little tighter than protocol called for.
Walking through the house to go to the car, Elliot thought back to her comments about the book; her cynicism had taken him by surprise. Although he didn’t know Anne well, he didn’t expect her to have such a jaded interpretation of the world. There was definitely more to Anne than he imagined, and he’d be interested one day to hear her story.
Chapter 20
Elliot spent the rest of the morning and early
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