Read Online With Child by Laurie R. King - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laurie R. King
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wonder." She grinned. "I'm very happy for you, Al. For both of you."
Al Hawkin and Jani Cameron had met a year and a half ago, only days before Lee had been shot in the culmination of the same case that brought him to the Cameron door. Since then, Al had paid court to this woman with all his might and every wile at his command. "Laid siege" would describe it more accurately, Kate had occasionally thought over the months. A very polite and solicitous siege, true, but for all the chivalry, there was an underlying single-minded determination that made the final result inescapable.
Jani, coming in with a tray of coffee, was also happy. At any rate, there was a softness in her that had not been there before, and conversely, her spine was straighter. Al had won her, and she was freed from solitude, and Kate heard the heavy footsteps of returning melancholia as she sat on the comfortable ugly sofa and drank coffee with these two friends who had obviously spent this gift of an unexpected free day mostly in bed. She drained her mug, took her leave of them, and drove home to her empty house on Russian Hill. She looked at the keyhole with loathing, opened the door. No lights, no warmth, no smells, the only noise the sharp echo of the door closing. The only life here was an importunate raccoon.
"You miserable house," she said loudly, and went to feed Gideon his dinner.
FOUR
Contents - Prev / Next
Kate woke early after a night of fitful sleep, and she decided the time had come to find her running shoes again. It took her a while, but she uncovered them at last in a box on a shelf in what she had begun thinking of as Lee's closet, where Jon must have put them some months before in one of his fits of tidying. They were old friends on her feet, and she did a careful round of stretches before letting herself out into the gray half rain of an early, foggy morning.
By the base of the hill, her calf muscles were quivering, and the intended easy run of two miles was whittled down still further. At the end of the short circuit, she returned up Russian Hill, walking, and slowly at that, with a red face and heaving lungs. Inside the house, the red dot on the answering machine was glowing, an excuse to sit down on the carpeted stairway to listen to the message - three messages, it turned out; the telephone must have rung the whole time she was out. The first one was from Jon, his voice sounding distant, exaggerated: defensive.
"Katarina, dearest,
why
do I always get the machine? Are you never at home? I
do
hope you're getting these messages; I'll feel terrible if you haven't been. Anyway, I'm back in Boston, but only for a few days. A friend wants me to go to his place in Cancun, and you know how I adore Mexico. Just for a week or two, maybe a bit more, I don't know. I may be back in the City first, but if not, I'll drop you a line and let you know just where I am, exactly. If you really have to get ahold of me, that same number in Boston will do; they'll know where I am. Did you get my postcard from London? Don't you think those helmets the bobbies wear are just so adorable? Why don't our boys wear them? Couldn't you suggest it to the police commissioner or whoever is in charge of the uniforms? Ah well, enough of this, I'll use up the whole tape. Toodle-oo now, Kate, as they say in jolly old. I hope you're well. I'll be in touch soon."
The next message was a brief one from Rosa Hidalgo, who said, "Kate, I just wanted to tell you that if there's anything I can do to help you with Jules, just call me. She's a real sweetheart, but she can be a handful, and I'm happy to offer advice." Kate stared at the machine, wondering what on earth the woman was talking about. She shook her head at the neighborhood busybody and dismissed her from her mind.
Fortunately, the third message was from Jules.
"Hi, Kate. I, um, I suppose you're asleep, and don't bother calling me back. I just wanted to say thanks for yesterday; I really enjoyed it. Especially when
Al Hawkin and Jani Cameron had met a year and a half ago, only days before Lee had been shot in the culmination of the same case that brought him to the Cameron door. Since then, Al had paid court to this woman with all his might and every wile at his command. "Laid siege" would describe it more accurately, Kate had occasionally thought over the months. A very polite and solicitous siege, true, but for all the chivalry, there was an underlying single-minded determination that made the final result inescapable.
Jani, coming in with a tray of coffee, was also happy. At any rate, there was a softness in her that had not been there before, and conversely, her spine was straighter. Al had won her, and she was freed from solitude, and Kate heard the heavy footsteps of returning melancholia as she sat on the comfortable ugly sofa and drank coffee with these two friends who had obviously spent this gift of an unexpected free day mostly in bed. She drained her mug, took her leave of them, and drove home to her empty house on Russian Hill. She looked at the keyhole with loathing, opened the door. No lights, no warmth, no smells, the only noise the sharp echo of the door closing. The only life here was an importunate raccoon.
"You miserable house," she said loudly, and went to feed Gideon his dinner.
FOUR
Contents - Prev / Next
Kate woke early after a night of fitful sleep, and she decided the time had come to find her running shoes again. It took her a while, but she uncovered them at last in a box on a shelf in what she had begun thinking of as Lee's closet, where Jon must have put them some months before in one of his fits of tidying. They were old friends on her feet, and she did a careful round of stretches before letting herself out into the gray half rain of an early, foggy morning.
By the base of the hill, her calf muscles were quivering, and the intended easy run of two miles was whittled down still further. At the end of the short circuit, she returned up Russian Hill, walking, and slowly at that, with a red face and heaving lungs. Inside the house, the red dot on the answering machine was glowing, an excuse to sit down on the carpeted stairway to listen to the message - three messages, it turned out; the telephone must have rung the whole time she was out. The first one was from Jon, his voice sounding distant, exaggerated: defensive.
"Katarina, dearest,
why
do I always get the machine? Are you never at home? I
do
hope you're getting these messages; I'll feel terrible if you haven't been. Anyway, I'm back in Boston, but only for a few days. A friend wants me to go to his place in Cancun, and you know how I adore Mexico. Just for a week or two, maybe a bit more, I don't know. I may be back in the City first, but if not, I'll drop you a line and let you know just where I am, exactly. If you really have to get ahold of me, that same number in Boston will do; they'll know where I am. Did you get my postcard from London? Don't you think those helmets the bobbies wear are just so adorable? Why don't our boys wear them? Couldn't you suggest it to the police commissioner or whoever is in charge of the uniforms? Ah well, enough of this, I'll use up the whole tape. Toodle-oo now, Kate, as they say in jolly old. I hope you're well. I'll be in touch soon."
The next message was a brief one from Rosa Hidalgo, who said, "Kate, I just wanted to tell you that if there's anything I can do to help you with Jules, just call me. She's a real sweetheart, but she can be a handful, and I'm happy to offer advice." Kate stared at the machine, wondering what on earth the woman was talking about. She shook her head at the neighborhood busybody and dismissed her from her mind.
Fortunately, the third message was from Jules.
"Hi, Kate. I, um, I suppose you're asleep, and don't bother calling me back. I just wanted to say thanks for yesterday; I really enjoyed it. Especially when
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