Read Online She Felt No Pain by Lou Allin - Free Book Online Page B

inconvenience of finding the vehicle, many were reusing dirty needles. “Harm reduction” was a tough sell for activists battling more conservative citizens. Fortunately, in Canada health care was regarded as a right, not a privilege. Since its inception, no prime minister had dared prod the sacred cow.
    To be as thorough as possible, she established a fifty-foot perimeter. The scraggly undergrowth defied combing. Sword ferns dueled with deer fern and bracken. Pick-up sticks of skinny alders blocked her progress, and the prickly weave of tiny ground blackberries threaded together the tapestry. Nothing more turned up except a beer can with fresh butts. Prints probably, DNA possibly. For good measure, she paper-bagged everything, peering at the water bottle, which seemed to have three good latents. In the distance, the wail of the ambulance could be heard. They’d probably been jammed by a fender-bender. Travel in the summer on the two-lane to Victoria was getting slower every year now that the housing developments in Sooke had ballooned the population. Hadn’t anyone thought about infrastructure when that Sun River development of five hundred people had begun? And west of Fossil Bay, the Jordan River plan, involving hundreds of hectares of former clear-cuts, now stalled in the zoning, foresaw another nine thousand people. The traffic ramifications reminded her of sand dripping in an hourglass.
    “Here are the ETs,” Boone called, making final observations in a notebook. At least his purpled face had returned to a normal colour. This kind of exercise was taxing for the old man, but she liked working with him, trusted his wisdom.
    They made their way back to the parking lot after the body had been removed. Boone drove off in his Jeep, the tailpipe dangling with baling wire. Surprisingly, the Jones family was still there. She walked over to thank them again. In the back seat, the kids were watching a video.
    “Everyone’s getting hungry, and we’re due in Port Renfrew, where we’ve reserved a campsite,” Chrissy said. “I don’t think they got that close a look at the poor man. Frank saw him in time. Let’s hope it’s not quite real, only a bad memory. I told them that he had a heart attack. It seemed easiest.”
    Nothing wrong with a white lie now and then. “One last question. Did you find that cache?” Holly took off her cap to wipe her brow.
    “Are you kidding? We got out as fast as we could.”
    For safety, Holly waved them back across traffic onto the busy road. Geocaching sounded like fun for kids. A real game in the real world...except that in this case a corpse had joined the party. As a first step, she’d run his name through CPIC. In all likelihood he had a record, perhaps even outstanding warrants. She respected the humanity, the mother who had borne him. But he had committed himself to a maverick lifestyle and removed himself from a world of cares.
    Under the bridge, Bill’s old lawn chair still stood, nearby a coffee pot and enamel cup beside a careful fire pit with a metal screen on top. She tested the ashes and found them cold. His meager belongings, consisting of a wheeled dolly with a shock-corded milk crate, sat beside his backpack. This way, hitchhikers could carry more, and the dolly could go into a trunk or truck bed. Odd that he’d left it so trustingly, but probably it held nothing of value. She’d lived light too, possessing no furniture that couldn’t be left behind in the places she’d rented. But didn’t everyone want a room of his own? Her mother would have expected her to reach out a hand, not be judgmental about those who lived on the street...or in the forest.
    Chipper capped a bottle of spring water and wiped his mouth with a snow-white handkerchief. Other than her father in courtly mode, he was the only man she’d ever seen use one. “Everything go okay?” he asked.
    Holly cocked her thumb. “That old guy I met the other day, Bill. Did you see him when you got here?”