Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 17 из 70



SIX

Jim Tattinger did most of the talking and he was asking questions that neither Ralph nor Lucas wanted to answer: What did De

As a reaction to the death of a colleague, guilty embarrassment seemed singularly inappropriate. A

She and Jim had talked of Castle as if he were alive. In their minds-at least in A

A

Lucas Vega thought of De

A

Lucas wiped a fine-boned brown hand over his face, dragging down the flesh of his cheeks. “I’ll call the Feds. This clearly is no accident. The man didn’t bump his head diving off the high board and drown. He’s a couple of hundred feet down floating around in a Halloween costume.

“Then I guess we go get him. It’s a hell of a crime scene to investigate. The standard techniques aren’t going to help much. I doubt there’s an FBI man in a thousand miles who could even get to the scene, much less function after he did. We’re stuck with this one. At least for a while.”

A

“Do you feel you’re ready for a dive that technical?” Lucas asked.

“Sure.”

He clapped her on the shoulder and went into the cabin.

Ralph Pilcher, still seated on the engine box, drank his coffee as the Bertram powered up. A

“Yup.”

“Good. It should. It’s one scary place.”

A

“No. But then it didn’t scare De

“The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t,” A



Pilcher nodded. “We’ll give you all the help you need. Don’t get pigheaded.” He stood up, his feet firm and easy on the moving deck. “And stay a little scared. You’ll live longer.”

The District Ranger went inside. A

The drizzle had stopped and the sun was piercing through a rent in the clouds above the island, pouring gold down onto the treetops until they glowed a rich green against their shadowed fellows. Sparks of sunshine reached the water. Where they touched, the lake turned emerald and azure. Light, life, color: A

Sandra Fox’s comfortable voice came into her mind, telling her again of a high school girl’s relentless love of a boy. How it molded her career, shaped her life even into her early thirties. A week and a half ago Jo had married her high school boy. Now that boy was dead.

At the moment, in Jo’s mind, De

The instant A

By the time they reached Davidson Island the sky was clear and the sun shone down as if it always had. Pilcher and Tattinger had been left at Mott. A

Lucas made the lines fast to the dock cleats and stood in the sun waiting. Both he and A

As they walked up the wooded path toward the cabin, three bu

The door of the cabin was open. From within came the sound of a woman’s tuneless humming. Across the honey-colored wooden floors, A

Jo saw them before they had a chance to knock. And she knew there was bad news before they had a chance to speak.

“What?” she demanded, looking from one to the other. Then more sharply: “What?”

Lucas took an audible breath. In the short eternity while he was collecting his thoughts, forming his sentences, A

“It’s god-awful, Jo,” A

Sandra Fox and Trixy came over at ten-thirty after Trixy’s evening program. Sandra had a casserole that smelled enticingly of onion and garlic and cheese. Women could sit with grief, hold its hand, watch it pour from the eyes of friends and children, lie down beside it and help it to rest. Their delicate strength would weave a net strong as spun steel, keep the widow Castle from hitting bottom.