Bitter Recoil by Steven F. Havill Read Free Book Online Page B

down toward the rock. “Finn says her name is Ruth, and she says it’s Daisy. And you know something you’re not telling me.”
    “She is a sweetheart,” Estelle said. “And I’ll bet you twenty bucks that she’s Burgess’s child. Orlando Garcia knew Cecilia had a child…he’d seen her many times. The child used to play in the back room of the store when Cecilia worked there.”
    “And her name was Daisy,” I said. Estelle nodded, and I continued, “So Daisy is her nickname. And maybe Finn’s lying, and maybe he’s not. How is it your husband never had occasion to meet the child? Here we are wondering about Burgess’s other kid and she’s right under our noses.”
    “She was never sick maybe? I don’t know.”
    “You just found about her today? When you talked with Garcia?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then I feel a little better.”
    “We still have a problem though,” Estelle said, then dropped the subject as we approached the rock. Robert had started to move when we were fifty yards away. He pulled on a T-shirt, gathered up the book, and dropped off the backside of the rock as agile as a cat.
    “Robert,” Estelle said as he appeared on the uphill side of the boulder, “did you either witness yourself, or talk to anyone who did, the accident last night down on the state highway?”
    “No.”
    “You just heard about it in town this morning?”
    Robert hesitated for just a fraction of a second. “Yes.”
    Estelle nodded and glanced at me. “Thanks,” she said, and Robert almost said another word but thought better of it. “I think we’re finished here,” she told me, more for Robert’s benefit than mine.
    When we were out of earshot, she added, “Blabby kid, isn’t he?”
    “Yes.”
    Estelle grinned at my imitation. “I’d be willing to bet another twenty bucks he knows lots more than he lets on.”
    “He’d have to. And did you happen to notice what else was interesting?”
    Estelle frowned, and I felt an unprofessional twinge of pride that I had seen something she hadn’t. “What do you mean?”
    I stopped and looked back up the trail. “He was wearing a gun.”
    “Oh, that. Yes, I saw the bulge under his T-shirt when he came around the rock.” She twisted around and put a hand on the small of her back, where the gun had been.
    “When you asked him if he’d seen the accident, he turned a little to face you. That’s when I saw it,” I said.
    Estelle shrugged. “Probably half the people in New Mexico carry guns.” She looked back up the trail. “That’s kind of interesting, though. A gun in one hand, a Bible in the other.”
    “Is that what the book was?”
    “Uh huh.”
    “Couldn’t read the title,” I said lamely. I concentrated on where I put my feet. It was easier going downhill, but I was top-heavy and needed to watch my step.
    “If the child is Cecilia’s daughter, it’s going to be a mess trying to work through the social services department to get that kid out of the woods,” Estelle said. “Paul Garcia is working on finding Burgess’s relatives, if there are any. He should have turned something up by the time we get back.”
    “And if there aren’t any?”
    “Then we’ll have to work a court order of some sort.”
    I nodded. “You’re running on a lot of assumptions.”
    Estelle held a branch so it wouldn’t whip me in the face. “You think she should be living up here? Without her mother?”
    “She didn’t seem to mind.”
    “No, maybe not. I do though.” She stopped and stood for a minute with her hands on her hips, staring off into space. “Do you think that either Finn or Robert knows who tossed Cecilia Burgess?”
    “No, I don’t. They would have said something if they did.”
    “That’s what I was thinking.”
    “And by the way,” I said, “I hate to tell you your job, but you didn’t I.D. Robert of the Rock. It might have been handy to know who the hell he is.”
    “I know who he is,” Estelle replied and started off on the trail once