Read Online The River by Mary Jane Beaufrand - Free Book Online Page A

slapped googly eyes on the cones and put them in various outfits and poses: pinecone with a fishing rod, pinecone on a toilet, pinecone at the dentist. I didn’t think that was art, but the asking price was fifty bucks apiece.
    “That’s great you help your mother like that,” I said. And I meant it. I loved that he dressed tough but was considerate of the women in his life. And smelling the flowers he’d brought made me want to be one of those women.
    He finally seemed to notice my red eyes and runny nose. Otherwise, why would he have bolted like that? He quickly zipped up his pack. “Gotta run. See you in school!” He took off through the back door, sprinting around the side of the inn like a mule deer, leaving me wondering at what he might’ve said if I had had straight hair or bigger breasts or more makeup or not been wearing this formless khaki uniform and aerobic-looking shoes.
    Instead I was left with another retreating back; another closed door.

    I was still standing there when Sheriff McGarry came out to join me, collapsing on the wicker rocker, which listed heavily under her weight. Another thing rotting from the inside. She looked at the lupine in my hand. “Those from your boyfriend?”
    I’d forgotten I was holding them. I stuck them in another apron pocket, one far away from Karen’s blooms.
    I looked up and caught her gazing out the window. She looked tired, the way Mom had that day Dad broke down, and every day since when she thought no one was looking.
    “Monster cookie?” I offered.
    She shook her head slowly. “Have a seat, Ronnie.”
    I did, and the sofa groaned under me.
    She leaned forward and steepled her fingers together. She did not have a notepad, or a deputy who was scribbling for her.
    “How often do you run alone?”
    “Every Saturday,” I said.
    “Do you have a running buddy? Someone to go with you?”
    “Not unless you count the dog pack,” I said slowly.
    She picked something off her lip. “Oh yeah. I forgot about them. Still, maybe you should take someone big with you. How about Tomás? Would he tag along?”
    “He’s training for the playoffs,” I said. “Coach told him not to work the slow twitch muscles. Listen, what’s going on?” I asked. “Why are you asking me?”
    She didn’t say anything.
    And then I knew. In that one, unguarded moment, I could see in her face what had made her so tired.
    She didn’t think Karen’s drowning was just an accident. And now I could see it, too. Someone had made a trapdoor of Karen’s hair, and then forced her head under the current and watched her drown.
    “Oh my God,” I said, puky again. Who could have done such a thing? To Karen ? And I understood in that moment why people needed to create monsters, vampires and werewolves and sasquatches. It was easier to believe in them than someone with a human face bashing in the head of a little girl.
    “Don’t jump to conclusions, Ronnie. We won’t know until the coroner’s report comes back. But I wanted to put you on your guard. If you have to go out and you can’t find a running buddy, it’s probably a good idea to carry something.”
    “You mean like my cell?” I said.
    She shook her head. “Do you know how to use pepper spray?” She ferreted around her belt and dug something out. A leather pouch that looked like a rustic lipstick holder.
    She popped the cap. “Here,” she said, tossing it to me. “When you’re running, leave it unbuttoned like that. And keep it somewhere handy.”
    I caught it and examined it. “It looks like Bahama Blast,” I said, because that was the first thing my mind fixed on. Pathetic. My only point of reference for a weapon was something you could buy at the Clinique counter.
    “Don’t point it at your mouth,” she said. Then she wagged her finger at me. “And don’t be a wuss now, Ronnie. If something happens, use it. Aim straight for the eyes. Don’t be a girl and hold back ’cause you’re afraid to hurt someone. You use it,