The Mortal Groove by Ellen Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

here in the boonies?” asked Larry. “They do it by horse and buggy?”
    Del laid a hand on the back of Larry’s neck. At six foot seven, Del towered over everyone. “Can you believe it? All these years later and we’re still standing. We must be made of kryptonite to live through what we did.”
    â€œPurely true,” said Larry, shaking his head.
    â€œAnd you two are still my best friends. My brothers,” said Randy.
    â€œMom always liked you best,” said Larry, punching Del’s arm, putting up his fists.
    Watching them spar, Randy felt something familiar stir inside. The gray hair didn’t matter, neither did the years. Around these guys he was young again. He wanted to laugh, to drink too much, sleep too late, smoke and swear and argue. He wanted to suck in the sweet night air and never forget how much he owed them.
    They talked for a few more minutes, swapped a few old stories, laughed at a few old jokes. When they finally came inside they found Randy’s brother, Ethan, in the kitchen standing by the refrigerator eating refried beans from a Tupperware bowl. He’d turned on the light under the stove, but the rest of the house was dark.
    â€œHey, Ethan,” said Larry, closing the sliding door behind him.
    Ethan had grown into a bear of a man. Six four, 260 pounds. He looked like an aging linebacker. His hair was still thick and blond, like Randy’s, only Ethan’s hair was straight, no waves. He kept active because Randy had helped him organize a lawn and snow service. He took care of several dozen properties in the area. He couldn’t do the billing, but he loved to be outside doing the work. And he lived to drive his truck.
    â€œHi,” said Ethan, talking and chewing at the same time.
    â€œSay, Ethan,” said Randy, moving behind the island counter. “Why don’t you take Larry upstairs and get him settled in one of the guest bedrooms. Del and I need a few minutes to discuss some business.”
    â€œHe’s staying?” said Ethan, nodding to Larry as he stuffed more beans into his mouth.
    â€œFor a while,” said Randy.
    â€œI want Sherrie to come home,” said Ethan, sounding like a little boy who’d lost his mom.
    â€œI know. I do, too. Now come on, help me out here. Maybe you could give Larry a hand with his bags.”
    â€œI only got one,” said Larry. “Left it down by the front door.”
    â€œWhere’d you put your car?” asked Randy.
    â€œI hitchhiked.”
    â€œAll the way from Arizona?”
    â€œHad to sell my wheels a while back.”
    â€œCome on, Larry,” said Ethan, pivoting with a tired sigh and walking out of the kitchen. “Maybe you better take a shower ‘cause you sure smell like a lawn mower.”
    Larry turned back to Randy and Del and shrugged.
    â€œWe got new towels,” said Ethan’s disappearing voice. “Blue and green ones. I like the green ones best.”
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    Randy’s office was on the first level, on the other side of the house from the living room. It was comfortably furnished with leather chairs and an Indian ivory and ebony desk, one Randy had found in an antiques store in New Orleans. The room was small enough to seem warm even with the abandoned feel of the rest of the house. Three walls were filled with books, most of them law books. Across from the desk, a glass wall looked outon the woods, where blue twilight had finally deepened into night.
    Randy switched on the desk lamp and found his address book. He phoned the pizza place and ordered two extra-large extra-everything pizzas. As he set the phone down, he said, “So tell me what’s so important that you had to drive all the way out here.”
    Del dropped into a chair. “We got a reporter on our tail.”
    â€œOur
tail? This isn’t about the campaign?”
    Del ran a weary hand over his hair. “No. I don’t know the details, but from