Half Past Mourning by Fleeta Cunningham Read Free Book Online Page B

never would—could Nina face that, after losing her parents and then living on hope for the last two years?
    Peter turned to his office and tugged at the warped desk drawer. Thumbing through a half dozen file folders, he pulled out the one with his car title and the letters he’d exchanged with the widow in Barlow when he bought the car. Talking with her was a place to start. He didn’t know what the future held for Nina, but he’d offered to help her find out. If Danny Wilson had bolted an hour after marrying the girl, he’d better pray Peter didn’t find him. Right now, Peter wasn’t sure which answer was the best for Nina, but he’d put his all into uncovering the truth for her. For a man who didn’t believe in kissing someone else’s wife, he was putting a lot of effort into finding a way to do just that.
    ****
    More than a week passed and Nina heard nothing further from Peter Shayne. She didn’t know what she’d expected, a miracle perhaps, but Peter didn’t call or send a message. He did have a job, she reminded herself, and she shouldn’t expect him to drop everything to dig into her dilemma.
    It’s just that he found Danny’s license and his knife, and that’s the first time anything like a clue has come to light. I had a flicker of hope, something new happened, and I got excited. I believed for a little while that this nightmare had an end. I don’t know what Peter could do that hasn’t already been done. It’s been too long.
    Nina saw the last of her fourth graders out the door and returned to tidy her desk, filing away the debris of the day. The school year was rapidly winding down. Ahead of her were the long, hot, empty days of summer. She could take a course or two over in Pueblo at the college, she supposed, or maybe make a trip with one of the other teachers. Paula King, the fifth grade teacher, was a good friend. They usually spent some of their summer together. Not this year, Nina reminded herself. Paula would be getting married this summer.
    Walking home in the warm spring sun lifted her spirits. Sinbad was waiting at the door, insisting with a raucous yowl that starvation was at hand, and she was personally responsible for his woes.
    “I told you to come in this morning, you know,” she told him as she put her books and purse down. “Now you’ve had to wait all day. Come on, let’s get your bowl filled before you expire.”
    As she filled the bowl, the phone rang. Peter! He’s found something! The thought sent her rushing back to the living room and the square black phone on the shelf beside the doorway.
    The voice on the other end of the line wasn’t Peter’s. At first she didn’t recognize the caller.
    “Yes, this is Nina Kirkland,” she answered.
    “Nina, it’s Tinker,” the caller replied.
    “Tinker?” For a moment she was blank, unable to place the name. Then in a rush the name and the voice came together. “Oh, Tinker! Where are you? Here, in Santa Rita? How are you?”
    “I’m coming that way, Nina,” he answered. “I’ll be in a little after dark. Can I see you? I’ve thought about you a lot since I left, you and your uncle. Hoped you both were all right. Will you meet me somewhere?”
    “Of course, I want to see you. It’s been two years, and I’ve missed you. Come here, to my house. We can have dinner. It’ll be so good to see you.” The silence at the other end of the phone became strained.
    “I guess I’d better not come to your house, Nina. One or two people in Santa Rita might not be all that glad to see me. Can you meet me down by the river, along the walking path? Say about seven-thirty tonight? I want to see you, Nina, want to know how things are for you without Danny, but there are still a few people around here who might not give me such a warm welcome.”
    She did know, and Tinker Downs had every reason in the world to avoid a few people in town, mostly his own family. “I’ll be there, Tinker. I’ll wait at the bench below the Opera