Relics by Mary Anna Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

“We like it here. We’ll just hang out in this tree until you take the boys home. And don’t forget to lock the gate good, okay?”
    Irene smiled up at them and turned to go home. Walking along the woodland path among the huge animals, she looked like Red Riding Hood out for a stroll with three Big Bad Wolves.
    Faye and Carmen gave Irene ample time to get the “boys” in their pen. The cold dry air carried the clank of a heavy gate being closed, but they waited a while longer, just in case, listening to the pitiable baying of three hunters deprived of their kill.
    “The Sujosa sure have a peculiar way of saying, ‘Welcome, stranger,’” said Faye, as she swung down from the tree.

Chapter Six
    Faye climbed the porch steps of the women’s bunkhouse and found Joe waiting there, whistling whippoorwill calls. She dropped into the rocker next to his, hoping that birdsong would chase DeWayne Montrose’s dogs out of her head.
    Carmen had recovered her good humor more quickly than Faye. She leapt onto the porch in a single stride and slid her briefcase through the house’s open door into its broad central hall. Thrusting both arms out in front of her, she staggered past them, Frankenstein-style, bellowing, “Must. Have. Shower.”
    “I made beef stew,” Joe offered as she passed.
    “Shower. Then beef stew. Good.” Carmen disappeared through the front door.
    Faye looked up at the porch ceiling. It had once been painted blue.
    “How you doing?”
    “Okay, Joe,” she said. “Ready to get to work.”
    “On Monday, you’ll get your chance.”
    “Joe, what am I going to do? Raleigh’s messed things up so badly.”
    “You’ll figure something out. Raleigh may have a few more college degrees in back of his name, but you’re worth ten of him. He couldn’t dig up a dead skunk buried in a sandbox.”
    Faye laughed until she snorted.
    It was cool but pleasant there on the porch. Carmen must have showered quickly, because Faye could see her moving around the parlor, setting flatware and paper napkins and steaming bowls of stew on a card table. It was not yet six, but it was full dark outside, and the brightly lit window illuminated the porch and most of the front yard, but it didn’t reach as far as the road. Only the crunching sound of tires on gravel announced the arrival of Faye’s second housemate. It took a little time for the young woman to make her way from the darkened drive and into the light, but she moved well, considering her obstacles.
    Laurel Cook had skipped the Friday night meeting to squeeze in a few extra tutoring sessions, and she’d been asleep when Faye had returned to the bunkhouse, so this was Faye’s first sight of the education specialist. Laurel could have passed for a fifteen-year-old, but she was in reality a college graduate who merely looked like a child. She had waxy white skin, and her large dark eyes peered from beneath wispy bangs the color of ash. Her right leg was encased in a knee-high brace which, according to Carmen, had been part of Laurel’s life since she was a child. Several weeks before, she’d had surgery intended to partially correct the congenital defect that had left her lame in both legs. Her new-and-improved left leg wore a walking cast that would support it while it healed and while Laurel re-learned how to use it. Laurel’s gait could best be described as a slow hobble, but her delicate movements had their own grace. She reminded Faye of a wren with an injured wing.
    Faye rose to help Laurel navigate the porch steps, peering into the darkness to see who had driven her this far only to throw her out of the car and let her make her way without help.
    Joe, who was quicker than Faye, reached Laurel in two huge steps. Standing behind her and cupping his hands under both elbows, he practically lifted her onto the porch.
    Someone slammed a car door in the darkness. Faye knew it was Dr. Brent Harbison before he stepped into the light, by the way his light hair