The Edge
Page 50
"Hey," I said and ran forward.
The woman straightened and cocked her head at me in question. It was Dr. Kiren. "She's tired but wanted to ask me a question. I had to lean over to hear her."
"Sorry," I said.
Dr. Kiren smiled. "She'll be just fine by this evening, maybe even ready to go home."
Home, I thought. No, that wouldn't work. I had to think about this.
Dr. Kiren's pager went off. On her way out, she told Laura to rest.
I thought about Charlie Duck's funeral. Hopefully Charlie would arrive back in time for his scheduled send-off.
I leaned over Laura and stroked my thumb over her eyebrows. I said very quietly, "I'll see you later this afternoon. Then we'll talk. Just rest. Harold Hobbes will be outside your room. If anyone comes near you, it means they've gotten past Harold, so scream your head off."
“All right," she said, not opening her eyes. I'd nearly made it to the door when she called out, "Thanks, Mac."
"Sure," I said.
"I'm sorry I nearly got you killed."
"Yeah, I know."
I stopped at Laura's condo. Castanga's people had finished with it, but I still had to show my FBI badge so the manager would unlock her door. Grubster was standing directly in front of the door, waiting for Laura. He saw me, meowed once, then turned around and walked away, his tail high in the air. "I'm here to feed you," I called after him.
To my surprise, Grubster stopped, raised his left paw, licked it, and took two steps back toward me. Then he just sat there. "Okay," I said. "Let's find your cat food."
I watched Grubster chow down an entire can of salmon and rice and a big handful of dried stuff that looked so bad I poured some non-fat milk over it. Grubster purred the whole time he ate. I gave him a ton of fresh water and eyed his cat box, which needed changing. Grubster watched my technique. He must have approved because on his way out of the kitchen he stopped a moment and swiped his whiskers against my leg.
"Now for you, Nolan." When I said his name, Nolan filled the air with loud, sharp squawks, probably a bird's equivalent to orders. I changed his water, crumpled up a thick slice of bread into small pieces, and sprinkled sunflower seeds on the floor of his cage. Nolan obligingly hopped in to dine.
I stopped at the front door, looked from Grubster to Nolan, sighed, and went back to scratch and pet Grubster while Nolan serenaded me with squawks between bread bites.
I'd always had dogs growing up. During the past four or five years, though, I hadn't had a pet of any kind around. As I left, it didn't seem strange to call back to the two of them, "I'll be back to get you guys later."
"Squawk."
Nothing from Grubster. He was asleep.
I got back to Edgerton in the early afternoon. I stopped at Grace's Deli and ordered up a tuna salad sandwich on rye bread, with lots of tomatoes and dill pickles. While I ate, I asked Grace how to go about renting a home or an apartment here in town or just out of town, maybe near where Rob Morrison's small clapboard cottage was.
Grace was strong-willed as a mule, tall and very thin, with a head of salt-and-pepper hair. She smiled at me and said, "Well, I reckon you could go over to the Buttercup Bed and Breakfast, but Arlene Hicks isn't really high on you being here. Never got it through her head that money is money. She already told you she was all filled up, didn't she?"
I nodded. "I should have told her that if she wasn't running drugs, she has nothing to fear."
"Well, she just might be, you never know. Arlene's full of deep shoals, lots of secrets. I've got it, Mr. MacDougal. Mr. Tarcher owns a little house like Rob Morrison's. It's called Seagull Cottage, to the south of town, nearly right on the cliff. It's empty right now. The last tenants left about a month ago."
"Excellent." I finished off my sandwich and rose. "Are you coming to Charlie Duck's funeral?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Grace said. "I have a three-minute eulogy to give." She smiled, seeing my confusion. "I'm the town Buddhist."
"You're a Buddhist?"
"I haven't made up my mind, but I'm close enough. The thing is, though, that the Buddhists make it very simple for you to reach your heavenly reward. To reach Nirvana, all you have to do is live right, think right, and deny yourself just about everything. That's something, isn't it?"
"Where does the line begin?" I asked, looking around.
Grace just cocked her head at me, and I smiled and left. I called the Tarcher house and was surprised when Alyssum himself answered the phone. I told him I wanted to rent Seagull Cottage and I told him why. If he was the one behind having Laura drugged, well, it hardly mattered. He'd find out soon enough anyway where she was. Besides I wanted everyone to know that Laura and I were together and planned to camp right in their own backyard.
The woman straightened and cocked her head at me in question. It was Dr. Kiren. "She's tired but wanted to ask me a question. I had to lean over to hear her."
"Sorry," I said.
Dr. Kiren smiled. "She'll be just fine by this evening, maybe even ready to go home."
Home, I thought. No, that wouldn't work. I had to think about this.
Dr. Kiren's pager went off. On her way out, she told Laura to rest.
I thought about Charlie Duck's funeral. Hopefully Charlie would arrive back in time for his scheduled send-off.
I leaned over Laura and stroked my thumb over her eyebrows. I said very quietly, "I'll see you later this afternoon. Then we'll talk. Just rest. Harold Hobbes will be outside your room. If anyone comes near you, it means they've gotten past Harold, so scream your head off."
“All right," she said, not opening her eyes. I'd nearly made it to the door when she called out, "Thanks, Mac."
"Sure," I said.
"I'm sorry I nearly got you killed."
"Yeah, I know."
I stopped at Laura's condo. Castanga's people had finished with it, but I still had to show my FBI badge so the manager would unlock her door. Grubster was standing directly in front of the door, waiting for Laura. He saw me, meowed once, then turned around and walked away, his tail high in the air. "I'm here to feed you," I called after him.
To my surprise, Grubster stopped, raised his left paw, licked it, and took two steps back toward me. Then he just sat there. "Okay," I said. "Let's find your cat food."
I watched Grubster chow down an entire can of salmon and rice and a big handful of dried stuff that looked so bad I poured some non-fat milk over it. Grubster purred the whole time he ate. I gave him a ton of fresh water and eyed his cat box, which needed changing. Grubster watched my technique. He must have approved because on his way out of the kitchen he stopped a moment and swiped his whiskers against my leg.
"Now for you, Nolan." When I said his name, Nolan filled the air with loud, sharp squawks, probably a bird's equivalent to orders. I changed his water, crumpled up a thick slice of bread into small pieces, and sprinkled sunflower seeds on the floor of his cage. Nolan obligingly hopped in to dine.
I stopped at the front door, looked from Grubster to Nolan, sighed, and went back to scratch and pet Grubster while Nolan serenaded me with squawks between bread bites.
I'd always had dogs growing up. During the past four or five years, though, I hadn't had a pet of any kind around. As I left, it didn't seem strange to call back to the two of them, "I'll be back to get you guys later."
"Squawk."
Nothing from Grubster. He was asleep.
I got back to Edgerton in the early afternoon. I stopped at Grace's Deli and ordered up a tuna salad sandwich on rye bread, with lots of tomatoes and dill pickles. While I ate, I asked Grace how to go about renting a home or an apartment here in town or just out of town, maybe near where Rob Morrison's small clapboard cottage was.
Grace was strong-willed as a mule, tall and very thin, with a head of salt-and-pepper hair. She smiled at me and said, "Well, I reckon you could go over to the Buttercup Bed and Breakfast, but Arlene Hicks isn't really high on you being here. Never got it through her head that money is money. She already told you she was all filled up, didn't she?"
I nodded. "I should have told her that if she wasn't running drugs, she has nothing to fear."
"Well, she just might be, you never know. Arlene's full of deep shoals, lots of secrets. I've got it, Mr. MacDougal. Mr. Tarcher owns a little house like Rob Morrison's. It's called Seagull Cottage, to the south of town, nearly right on the cliff. It's empty right now. The last tenants left about a month ago."
"Excellent." I finished off my sandwich and rose. "Are you coming to Charlie Duck's funeral?"
"Wouldn't miss it," Grace said. "I have a three-minute eulogy to give." She smiled, seeing my confusion. "I'm the town Buddhist."
"You're a Buddhist?"
"I haven't made up my mind, but I'm close enough. The thing is, though, that the Buddhists make it very simple for you to reach your heavenly reward. To reach Nirvana, all you have to do is live right, think right, and deny yourself just about everything. That's something, isn't it?"
"Where does the line begin?" I asked, looking around.
Grace just cocked her head at me, and I smiled and left. I called the Tarcher house and was surprised when Alyssum himself answered the phone. I told him I wanted to rent Seagull Cottage and I told him why. If he was the one behind having Laura drugged, well, it hardly mattered. He'd find out soon enough anyway where she was. Besides I wanted everyone to know that Laura and I were together and planned to camp right in their own backyard.
