The Edge of Nowhere by Elizabeth George Read Free Book Online

phone Laurel again when she got there.
    She reached the end of Clyde, Diana’s street, and she made a little jog onto Sandy Point Road. This ran in the same direction as the waters of Saratoga Passage although within moments, Becca discovered that Sandy Point Road was as bad as Bob Galbreath Road had been. The only difference was the lack of curves. It was as straight as a ruler but otherwise it was hills and valleys all the way.
    It was terribly cold. Becca’s breath came from her like cumulus clouds, and she was soon grateful for the exertion necessary to get up the hills because, at least, this kept her warm.
    At last she came to the end of the road, where at a T-junction she saw in front of her the barnlike shapes of the county fairgrounds. She went to the right, in the direction that the map had told her she would find the town. As she did so, the chain on her bike slipped suddenly. The pedals turned with nowhere to go, and her leg hit the serrated pedal edge. Becca winced with the sudden pain.
    She got off the bike and took a look at it. She had to do something to keep it functioning. The problem was that she didn’t know what was wrong with the thing aside from the obvious. Did the gears need oiling? Did the chain need cleaning? Did something need to be replaced?
    She had to push the bike the rest of the way into the town. It wasn’t far. The road she was on was level at last, and she followed its curve. Finally, in the growing dawn, Langley spread out before her, tucked into trees, easing its way down a slope speckled with wood-framed cottages, then rising again into another hill. It was more a village than a town, and it sat on a bluff high above the pulsing water. She pushed her bike along this bluff toward what looked like a commercial area.
    She quickly discovered that the business part of Langley consisted of only two streets. She chose the first one, simply because it went downhill and she could get back on her bike and coast. She wasn’t sure where she was going at this point. She only knew she needed some food and she hoped to find it.
    She had a bit of luck quickly. On her right a short distance along the street she came to a parking lot. Not a large parking lot, as nothing in the village seemed large, but a parking lot all the same. At one side of it squatted a white building with STAR STORE in red neon letters above a double door of glass. The lights inside this store were on, and from what Becca could see, it looked like a market.
    She rolled her bike up to its door. She thought about removing her saddlebags while she was inside the place, for security’s sake, but no one was around to steal them and anyway, she had a feeling they’d be fine where they were. So would her backpack, she figured.
    Although the lights were blazing inside the Star Store, when she pulled on the door, Becca found it locked. She muttered and jiggled the door in irritation. Nothing—it seemed—was going right. It was time to call Laurel again.
    Becca turned to dig her cell phone from her backpack, but at that point a little miracle happened. The store doors opened behind her and a boy’s voice said, “Hey. Not opened yet. Sorry.”
    Becca swung in the direction of that voice. An older teenager was standing half in and half out of the store, a trash bag in one hand and the other hand holding the door open a few feet. He sported baggy jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt with DJANGO REINHARDT ROCKS featured on it. He wore an unbuttoned flannel shirt over this. His hair was long and held back in a ponytail, and a black fedora sat on his head. He looked about eighteen years old.
    He said to her, “Two hours till we open. Sorry.” He leaned a mop against the wall inside and came out into the cold. He had odd, thick-soled sandals on his feet and even odder red-and-orange socks. He sauntered over to a Dumpster, heaved the trash bag up and over, and wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans.
    Becca’s eyes fixed on the