StoneDust by Justin Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

hated it.”
    Were she a WASP, people would have called Michelle perky; being Italian, she was more like fiery. She was round, chubby sometimes, with a knockout face, short black hair, and eyes that seemed to crackle. The thought of her frolicking in the Jacuzzi-for-eight was intriguing, though I suspected that even up to her chin in swirling water and houseguests, she’d be talking a blue streak. She loved to talk. This evening, however, she sounded subdued.
    â€œNo, it was great,” I rattled on. “I was wiped and I had clients coming up from the city real early Sunday, so I figured I’d better crash.”
    â€œWere they worth getting up early?”
    â€œThey loved the town.”
    â€œDo they want to build, by any chance? You know, we’ve still got that ten acres on Morris Mountain.”
    â€œThey say they want old—you know, authentic Colonial—but then, they don’t want to be near the road and they want views and big bathrooms and lots of glass.”
    Michelle laughed. “Don’t forget our ten acres.”
    â€œTop of my list. They’re coming back next weekend, and I’ll just happen to swing by Morris Mountain.”
    â€œTell them we’ll give them a break on the footings and the septic.”
    I let silence build a moment. Then I said, “Speaking of which…”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œReg.”
    â€œPoor Reg. God, poor Duane, he’s just destroyed.”
    I’d seen Duane at the funeral, a thirty-five-year-old guy looking middle-aged with grief.
    â€œWho do you think is going to move in on Reg’s business? I doubt Janey’s going to run it.”
    â€œShe’s looking for a buyer.”
    â€œLots of luck. Without Reg, what is it but some used machines and a bunch of upkeep?”
    â€œI don’t know, Ben. Duane’s been talking to Tony Canning.”
    â€œOh, come on. I wouldn’t recommend Tony to build an outhouse.”
    Michelle laughed. I asked, “Why don’t you guys buy it?”
    â€œLike you said, Ben: Without Reg, what is Hopkins Septic except some old machines?”
    â€œGood will.”
    â€œWe’d still have to get someone to manage it,” Michelle said firmly, and it was pretty clear that she and Duane had kicked the idea around and found it wanting. She sounded a little cool all of a sudden, so I switched back to party talk.
    â€œWas that lamb marinade a dark secret? I noticed Duane hardly used the dome at all and it was still moist.” They had grilled a butterfly lamb vegetarians would have killed for.
    â€œYou like that? Soy, sherry, and olive oil. Grate in a big ginger root and crush a bunch of garlic.”
    â€œHow long?”
    â€œFive, six hours. You can use the low-salt soy so you don’t get Chinese eyes.”
    â€œTerrific…Hey, Michelle, you’re not doing a mother-in-law recipe on me, are you?”
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œLeaving out one major ingredient?”
    â€œBen, I wouldn’t do that to you…Probably.” She laughed.
    â€œThanks. And thanks for the party. You know, I didn’t see him that night.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œReg. Did he get there after I left?”
    â€œNo. We didn’t invite him.”
    â€œOh, I just figured…”
    â€œReg was a different guy since he stopped drinking. We tried, but he just couldn’t relate. Just between you and me, it got really uncomfortable. One time we did the lamb he got all bent out of shape because of the sherry. Jeez, Ben, the alcohol cooks off. But he wouldn’t touch it.”
    â€œBut you still did business.”
    â€œIt was hard. Sure, Duane and Reg went way back, but, you know—hey, people change. What are you going to do? Right?”
    â€œSo you didn’t see him the night he died?”
    â€œNo. Like I told you. He wasn’t invited. Listen, Ben, thanks for calling. You take care now.”
    â€œThanks for the