Read Online Third Rail by Rory Flynn - Free Book Online Page A

all you need to know about dear old Dad.” Candace counts off her father’s salient qualities on her ringed fingers. “He’s a big shot who is, in fact, up to his eyeballs in debt. He’s fat as a whale. He drinks all the time. And he’s a major asshole. Kicked me out of the family McMansion five years ago. I’m doing double shifts at the Nagog Bakery just to pay rent.”
    â€œI like that place.”
    â€œIf you want a cup of coffee and an almond croissant, yes. If you want to make a living, no.”
    â€œWhen was the last time you saw your father?”
    â€œA couple of weeks ago, when we took the baby over for a visit.”
    â€œWe?”
    â€œMe and Declan, May’s father.”
    â€œHow’d your dad seem to be doing?”
    â€œNo idea. We were there for about ten minutes. Dad can’t stand Dex.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œSays he’s wasting his time doing carpentry when he ought to be doing something smarter—and that pays better, of course. Dad’s all about the bottom line.”
    â€œYou two married?”
    Candace looks like she’s caught a whiff of death. “No, of course not. We’re living out at the Old Nagog Tavern. Dex and his friends are fixing it up so we can sell it.”
    â€œA project, then.” A vague memory of breaking into the abandoned tavern with friends flickers through Harkness’s mind.
    â€œRight. You could call it that. Or a dump.”
    Harkness tries to get back on track. “So has your father been acting differently?”
    â€œYou mean, like, depressed?”
    â€œYes, like that.”
    â€œSure. Maybe a little worse than usual. He’s got business problems. Something about meeting with the regulators. I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff.”
    Harkness does. When the regulators show up, it’s never good news. “Does he ever talk about killing himself?”
    Candace stares.
    â€œSorry to be so direct.”
    â€œHe doesn’t talk about it.”
    â€œI see.”
    â€œHe just does it,” she says. “Like, every day for the last ten years. Every steak. Every trip to the cheese store. Every bottle of wine. Every case of wine. Sure, he’s trying to kill himself.” Candace closes her eyes and this time it doesn’t stop the tears.
    She reaches into her purse for a tissue, and her other hand stays on the thigh of her black jeans. Harkness notices that its fingers are stiff and ringless.
    Candace catches him staring, reaches into her sleeve, and tosses something at him. “Catch.”
    Harkness slides back in his chair as Candace’s hand lands in his lap then bounces to the cafeteria floor. He leans down to pick up the smudged pink plastic hand, its fingernails painted black. Sharks drawn in ballpoint circle the wrist and its shiny metal nub.
    â€œIt’s fake, Eddy,” she says. “That hand sucks. I’ve got a better one at home but I left in a hurry.”
    â€œHow’d that happen?”
    â€œPaper cut.”
    Harkness stares at her.
    â€œReally bad one.”
    â€œBack in high school you were . . .”
    â€œWhole?” she said. “Bi-handed?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œHappened later, after you left town. An accident.”
    Harkness holds the hand out to her by its stiff fingers. It’s like shaking hands with a mannequin.
    â€œIt’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it sometime. But not now. Dealing with one accident is enough.” Candace tucks the metal nub into the sleeve of her leather jacket and gives it a deft twist. She gives Harkness a frozen smile and a queenly wave with her plastic hand.
    â€œI’m sorry. Really sorry.”
    Candace shrugs. “I’m used to it. Adaptation—the great and terrible quality of us humans. We get used to just about anything.”
    â€œStill, it must be . . .”
    â€œBeing a one-handed waitress is