Read Online The Main Corpse by Diane Mott Davidson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diane Mott Davidson
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Detective and Mystery Stories, Women Private Investigators, Cooking, Large Type Books, Colorado, Caterers and Catering, Cookery, Bear; Goldy (Fictitious Character), Women in the Food Industry
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behind a big rock in the Aspen Meadow Wildlife Preserve. He's waiting for us. We'll start at the beginning of that four-wheel vehicle path. It's not more than three miles."
"You and my son are going to hike a trail with Jake the retired hound dog for three miles, in the pouring rain? Do you know how much more chance you have of being caught in a rock slide with all the moisture we've been having?"
The second espresso hissed into the flowered Limoges cup. Tom clicked the tiny cup down in front of me and stooped to kiss my cheek. "Come on, don't ruin our fun, Miss G. Arch is dying to do this."
"Just listen, okay? Think of a cake with frosting. The frosting is the soil and loose rock we have in the mountains. Underneath is fractured rock-the cake. All this rain has added extra weight to the soil-frosting and could make it slide right off the underlying rock-cake. Got it? The land is especially unstable where streams have undercut banks. That's how you get major rock slides. And then - " I caught sight of his bemused expression and said, "Would you at least promise to be very careful?"
"Yes, Miss G. And would that be butter cream or meringue frosting?"
"With this weather, Arch is going to come home sick."
Tom grinned. "Oh, so first he wasn't going to come home at all because of the frosted-cake rock slide, and now he's going to come home with a cold. We're doing better. Anything else?"
Well, great. Tom had never had children and was not burdened with the worry that accompanied every foray into mountainous terrain. Nor did he know that taking a child out in wet, cold weather led to countless hours spent poring over old magazines in a pediatrician's office. These hours would be followed by countless pink teaspoons of Amoxicillin. Strep throat, ear infections, bronchitis, sinusitis... the man had a lot to learn. On the other hand, he did have a kid's own enthusiasm for going on adventures, and Arch treasured the time they spent together. I could just hear Arch if I vetoed their expedition. C'mon, Mom, I'm not going to get pneumonia! Sure. I sighed for the fourth time, sipped the espresso, then took a bite of Tom's coffee cake to keep from saying more. The delectable taste of lemon and the richness of cherry preserves infused the moist sour-cream cake. I narrowed my eyes at Tom, but he laughed.
"Delicious, huh? Be nice to your favorite cop and you can have the recipe."
There was a pounding at the back door and Arch traipsed through. "Here I am!" he announced as he joined us. His poncho and face were slick with rain. I suppressed a groan. "I've got Todd's T-shirt!" He held up a plastic bag containing a crumpled piece of grayish- white cloth.
Tom appraised the bag. "Not in the laundry? Not contaminated with other scents? Nobody else in the family touched it?"
Arch shook his head vigorously; the wet baseball cap slipped down over his forehead. He straightened it. "Can we leave? Please? I'm getting worried about Todd. You know, out in the rain. He has a poncho to keep him dry, but he is my friend."
"We're ready." Tom picked up a thermos backpack bulging with what I guessed to be sandwiches, trail mix, and (of course) homemade dog biscuits. He pointed to a tangled piece of leather on the counter. "Hey, buddy, can you hold on to your plastic bag and bring the working harness out to the car? You're going to be amazed at Jake, Arch. Bloodhounds are renowned for their intelligence." Tom held up one hand in farewell, winked at me, and opened the back door. The rain beat down. Jake's howling increased in volume. "You know the word we don't use prematurely? Remember, Arch? Don't even use it in conversation?"
"F-i-n-d," my son spelled knowingly, then dashed out after him.
"Don't get near the creek edge!" I yelled after them, but I doubted they heard me.
Moments later, Jake fell abruptly silent. The blessed I absence of barking
"You and my son are going to hike a trail with Jake the retired hound dog for three miles, in the pouring rain? Do you know how much more chance you have of being caught in a rock slide with all the moisture we've been having?"
The second espresso hissed into the flowered Limoges cup. Tom clicked the tiny cup down in front of me and stooped to kiss my cheek. "Come on, don't ruin our fun, Miss G. Arch is dying to do this."
"Just listen, okay? Think of a cake with frosting. The frosting is the soil and loose rock we have in the mountains. Underneath is fractured rock-the cake. All this rain has added extra weight to the soil-frosting and could make it slide right off the underlying rock-cake. Got it? The land is especially unstable where streams have undercut banks. That's how you get major rock slides. And then - " I caught sight of his bemused expression and said, "Would you at least promise to be very careful?"
"Yes, Miss G. And would that be butter cream or meringue frosting?"
"With this weather, Arch is going to come home sick."
Tom grinned. "Oh, so first he wasn't going to come home at all because of the frosted-cake rock slide, and now he's going to come home with a cold. We're doing better. Anything else?"
Well, great. Tom had never had children and was not burdened with the worry that accompanied every foray into mountainous terrain. Nor did he know that taking a child out in wet, cold weather led to countless hours spent poring over old magazines in a pediatrician's office. These hours would be followed by countless pink teaspoons of Amoxicillin. Strep throat, ear infections, bronchitis, sinusitis... the man had a lot to learn. On the other hand, he did have a kid's own enthusiasm for going on adventures, and Arch treasured the time they spent together. I could just hear Arch if I vetoed their expedition. C'mon, Mom, I'm not going to get pneumonia! Sure. I sighed for the fourth time, sipped the espresso, then took a bite of Tom's coffee cake to keep from saying more. The delectable taste of lemon and the richness of cherry preserves infused the moist sour-cream cake. I narrowed my eyes at Tom, but he laughed.
"Delicious, huh? Be nice to your favorite cop and you can have the recipe."
There was a pounding at the back door and Arch traipsed through. "Here I am!" he announced as he joined us. His poncho and face were slick with rain. I suppressed a groan. "I've got Todd's T-shirt!" He held up a plastic bag containing a crumpled piece of grayish- white cloth.
Tom appraised the bag. "Not in the laundry? Not contaminated with other scents? Nobody else in the family touched it?"
Arch shook his head vigorously; the wet baseball cap slipped down over his forehead. He straightened it. "Can we leave? Please? I'm getting worried about Todd. You know, out in the rain. He has a poncho to keep him dry, but he is my friend."
"We're ready." Tom picked up a thermos backpack bulging with what I guessed to be sandwiches, trail mix, and (of course) homemade dog biscuits. He pointed to a tangled piece of leather on the counter. "Hey, buddy, can you hold on to your plastic bag and bring the working harness out to the car? You're going to be amazed at Jake, Arch. Bloodhounds are renowned for their intelligence." Tom held up one hand in farewell, winked at me, and opened the back door. The rain beat down. Jake's howling increased in volume. "You know the word we don't use prematurely? Remember, Arch? Don't even use it in conversation?"
"F-i-n-d," my son spelled knowingly, then dashed out after him.
"Don't get near the creek edge!" I yelled after them, but I doubted they heard me.
Moments later, Jake fell abruptly silent. The blessed I absence of barking
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