Death Qualified by Kate Wilhelm Read Free Book Online Page A

where they spent much of their time together.
     
        They would be facing south, and later, very gradually, they would shift until they were facing west, paying homage to the sunset, completing a slow dance. Nell was in no hurry to join them. Jessica would be avid for details of what she had seen at Turner's Point, who had done what, who had been there. Nell shifted the books from one arm to the other, and leaned against an alder. Her gaze had not lingered on the house but on the river, which had been hidden by the thick woods until this point. No boats were in sight, but they wouldn't be, not upstream. Had they found that girl's body yet? She shuddered at the thought of dragging a body through the water to shore, over the rocks, over submerged logs.. .. She bit her lip and shook her head, trying to clear away the image.
     
        Finally she gave the alder a pat and started to walk again.
     
        It seemed very strange to her that alders peeled the way they did, exposing a polished red, hard core under the pale bark. Like blood, she thought, and began to walk faster.
     
        Doc must have been watching for her. He hurried out as she emerged from the woods, and there behind the house, he drew her to him and kissed her.
     
        "You were down there today? It must have been awful for you. Are you all right?"
     
        "Okay," she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
     
        She breathed in the good, sharp smell that always clung to him. After a moment she pulled back, stood on her toes, and kissed him swiftly.
     
        "We'd better go on. I can't stay very long."
     
        He stroked her hair, then reluctantly let her go. They' began to walk side by side.
     
        He was a slender man of forty-three, with narrow shoulders and long, narrow fingers. His hair was thinning, touched with gray at the temples; his face was very an gular. He would be one of those cadaverous old men you sometimes see, she had said once, laughing, running her finger over a sharp rib. He walked with a quick, restless energy everything he did was with the same swift motions that became almost jerky, except when he was with a patient; then it was as if he shifted into a different gear altogether: His movements became fluid, his manner contemplative even leisurely. She had met him as a patient and later had been very surprised to discover this second man coiled tightly behind that serene mask.
     
        "I have to talk to you," she said in a low voice as they approached the deck.
     
        "Lucas is coming. He was at his folks' house Monday. He's probably on his way here right now."
     
        Doc's steps faltered, and he jerked around to take her by the shoulders. She clutched the books to keep them from falling.
     
        "Why don't you divorce him and be done with it?"
     
        It was more a demand than a question. She shook her head.
     
        "Down on the beach, after the kids are sleeping?"
     
        He nodded, angry, but turned his head slightly, listening as a car squealed around the turn in the driveway.
     
        "Later, about eleven."
     
        They separated at the house, Doc to enter by a back door as she turned the corner of the deck and started down the length of the redwood flooring to where Jessica sat in her wheelchair, gazing out at the river. Near her, also gazing at the river, was Frank Holloway, another neighbor.
     
        Of course, Nell thought in resignation. Everyone in town would be buzzing with the story of the dead woman in the river. There would be groups all over, discussing it, theorizing, questioning those who had seen her.. .. The image of the body being dragged over sharp rocks to shore flashed before her mind's eye again, and once more she shook her head, shook it away. She made a swift, searching examination of the river: The cabins were visible from here, people standing around, some at tables, no boats tied up. They were all out there helping