Read Online The Bone Man by Vicki Stiefel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vicki Stiefel
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watch. “Are Dan and Belle expecting us at any time?”
“Not really. I don’t think so. Belle said they’d have cocktails waiting whenever we arrive.”
“Okay. So how come we’re taking this scenic journey?”
“I need to let off some steam,” Carmen said. “I’m pissed.”
“Because Zoe yelled at you?”
“Are you kidding?” She snorted. “That story about how the Delphine woman yelled at her. What a bitch. I hate people like that.”
I puffed out some air. “Yeah. But I never saw that side of Delphine. I really didn’t. Which is why I found the whole thing sort of strange. I wonder . . . Let’s go back.”
“Huh? Where?”
“To the shop.”
“Why?” she said.
“It’s complicated, Carm. Go.”
“I am not your chauffeur,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“You’re right. I’m being unfair. Just gimme a sec, okay? I’ve got to think this thing through. While I’m doing all my thinking, will you
please
turn around?”
Her U-turn sent the tires screeching and Penny howling and my heart just about leaping from my chest. I was thrilled,
thrilled
that no cars had been headed our way.
“Carm, how the frick many years do you think that took off my life, huh? How many? And Penny’s? That’s it. I am never letting you drive again. Never.”
A grin of satisfaction split her lips. “I know exactly what I’m doing. Speaking of . . .” She careened to a stop at the side of the incredibly narrow cliff road, pressed a button on the dash, and the canvas roof began to canopy over us. “We can go faster this way.”
“Oh, joy,” I muttered to myself.
She straightened her head-scarf, cleaned her sunglasses. “You can always walk, you know.”
“Shut up, Carm.”
“Why are we going back?”
The top flopped to a stop, and Carmen pressed levers that secured the top to the windshield.
“Something’s off,” I said. “I’ll explain as we go. I should have talked to Delphine. Not hung up like that. I thought it was her voice, but . . . well, maybe it wasn’t, y’know?”
Of course, when we arrived back at the shop, we were greeted with a sign that said BE BACK SOON and a clock dial pointed to three P.M. Bummer.
C HAPTER S IX
We drove down a neatly paved road lined with trees and very little retail and a few houses, yet we were on the main road from Vineyard Haven to Edgartown. We were headed for the Blacks’ home. They lived on Third Street or Fourth Street or maybe it was Seventh Street—I could never seem to remember—which was a side road off the main one to Edgartown.
“You know where you’re going?” I asked Carmen.
“Sure.”
I sat back and relaxed. Carmen was incredibly competent, which impressed me from the day we became buddies in kindergarten in Maine. She turned left, and we bumped down an unpaved road. We soon saw the pond, a lovely body of water connected to Nantucket Sound. I could never pronounce its Indian name. Minutes later, I spotted my friends’ driveway.
“There,” I said.
“I know,” she answered, and turned left into their dirt driveway. The bursts of flowers that rimmed Belle and Dan’s fence and outlined their post-Modern home hadstarted to yellow. Some had already turned brown and died, and a few of the trees sported their bright autumn party colors.
New England’s fall always came later and stayed longer on the Vineyard, which held great appeal to me. But I could never stand her summer tourist crowds for very long.
We parked in front of their garage and walked down the path to their screened-in porch. Belle stood on the steps, beaming. I rushed forward, and she gave me a big hug.
“Hey, hon,” I said. “Thanks for having us on such short notice.”
Her Egyptian brown eyes gave me the once-over. “It’s been tough, yes?”
I compressed my lips, nodded. “Veda. Yes. And Didi, too. I’m okay, though.”
“Of course you are.” She smothered me in another Belle hug. “You two come on in. Cocktails await.”
We sat
“Not really. I don’t think so. Belle said they’d have cocktails waiting whenever we arrive.”
“Okay. So how come we’re taking this scenic journey?”
“I need to let off some steam,” Carmen said. “I’m pissed.”
“Because Zoe yelled at you?”
“Are you kidding?” She snorted. “That story about how the Delphine woman yelled at her. What a bitch. I hate people like that.”
I puffed out some air. “Yeah. But I never saw that side of Delphine. I really didn’t. Which is why I found the whole thing sort of strange. I wonder . . . Let’s go back.”
“Huh? Where?”
“To the shop.”
“Why?” she said.
“It’s complicated, Carm. Go.”
“I am not your chauffeur,” she said. “What’s going on?”
“You’re right. I’m being unfair. Just gimme a sec, okay? I’ve got to think this thing through. While I’m doing all my thinking, will you
please
turn around?”
Her U-turn sent the tires screeching and Penny howling and my heart just about leaping from my chest. I was thrilled,
thrilled
that no cars had been headed our way.
“Carm, how the frick many years do you think that took off my life, huh? How many? And Penny’s? That’s it. I am never letting you drive again. Never.”
A grin of satisfaction split her lips. “I know exactly what I’m doing. Speaking of . . .” She careened to a stop at the side of the incredibly narrow cliff road, pressed a button on the dash, and the canvas roof began to canopy over us. “We can go faster this way.”
“Oh, joy,” I muttered to myself.
She straightened her head-scarf, cleaned her sunglasses. “You can always walk, you know.”
“Shut up, Carm.”
“Why are we going back?”
The top flopped to a stop, and Carmen pressed levers that secured the top to the windshield.
“Something’s off,” I said. “I’ll explain as we go. I should have talked to Delphine. Not hung up like that. I thought it was her voice, but . . . well, maybe it wasn’t, y’know?”
Of course, when we arrived back at the shop, we were greeted with a sign that said BE BACK SOON and a clock dial pointed to three P.M. Bummer.
C HAPTER S IX
We drove down a neatly paved road lined with trees and very little retail and a few houses, yet we were on the main road from Vineyard Haven to Edgartown. We were headed for the Blacks’ home. They lived on Third Street or Fourth Street or maybe it was Seventh Street—I could never seem to remember—which was a side road off the main one to Edgartown.
“You know where you’re going?” I asked Carmen.
“Sure.”
I sat back and relaxed. Carmen was incredibly competent, which impressed me from the day we became buddies in kindergarten in Maine. She turned left, and we bumped down an unpaved road. We soon saw the pond, a lovely body of water connected to Nantucket Sound. I could never pronounce its Indian name. Minutes later, I spotted my friends’ driveway.
“There,” I said.
“I know,” she answered, and turned left into their dirt driveway. The bursts of flowers that rimmed Belle and Dan’s fence and outlined their post-Modern home hadstarted to yellow. Some had already turned brown and died, and a few of the trees sported their bright autumn party colors.
New England’s fall always came later and stayed longer on the Vineyard, which held great appeal to me. But I could never stand her summer tourist crowds for very long.
We parked in front of their garage and walked down the path to their screened-in porch. Belle stood on the steps, beaming. I rushed forward, and she gave me a big hug.
“Hey, hon,” I said. “Thanks for having us on such short notice.”
Her Egyptian brown eyes gave me the once-over. “It’s been tough, yes?”
I compressed my lips, nodded. “Veda. Yes. And Didi, too. I’m okay, though.”
“Of course you are.” She smothered me in another Belle hug. “You two come on in. Cocktails await.”
We sat
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