The Snow Garden by Unknown Author Read Free Book Online Page A

outside. Sorry.”
         “You two have inside jokes now? I was only in the bathroom for ten minutes.”
         “I know, and we wanted to know why.”
         “Are you saying you two actually bonded?”
         “Mmmm. No, not really.” Kathryn grabbed his chin. “But let me see something. ...”
         “I don’t do drugs.”
         “Good. Then can we stop coming here?”
         ''You need some glamour in life, honey, and jugs of eight-dollar wine in the first-floor lounge don’t cut it.”
         Kathryn had lifted one hand as if to slap him when Jesse barked, “Shit! Check that out!”
         He pointed to the television above the bar, where Kathryn saw the mauled remains of a Volvo station wagon being hauled from the black water of the Atherton River. Police lights flared on the bridge overhead,
         “Turn it up!”
         It took Kathryn a second to realize it was Randall who had shouted the command at the bartender, who was occupied on the other side of the bar.
         The news cut live to a reporter standing at the rail of the bridge at the exact moment when Kathryn thought the screen would offer them a glimpse of the person behind the Volvo’s steering wheel. The volume stripe suddenly appeared at the bottom of the screen. Heads around the bar jerked at the sound of the reporter’s voice, now contending with the music. Kathryn turned to see Jesse bent over the bar, holding the remote, watching intently.
         “.. - trying to chase down the anonymous caller who placed the 911 call reporting the accident, but so far they are short on leads. But what police are also short on is any explanation as to why forty-one-year-old Lisa Eberman drove her Volvo station wagon through the guardrail behind me and into the freezing waters of the Atherton. River. The obvious answer might be as simple as bad weather.”
         The reporter cut to footage of paramedics rolling a gurney toward the flaring light of a waiting ambulance, its bridge lights smeared by the curtain of snow.
         “As we told you earlier, Eberman was the wife of Atherton art history professor Eric Eberman.”
         “Dude!” the bartender snapped, yanking the remote out of Jesse’s hand. “This isn’t a sports bar.”
         Kathryn turned to find Randall staring raptly at the television. Jesse had noticed too, and their eyes met before they returned their attention to Randall, gripping the stem of his martini glass, his eyes locked on the now-silerit flicker of images.
         “You’re in that guy’s course, right?” Jesse asked him.
         “Shit,” Kathryn whispered. “Did you know her?”
         After several more seconds, Randall pulled his eyes from the TV, stared down into his drink glass, and then brought it slowly to his mouth as he shook his head. He slugged it back and caught his breath. “No, I didn’t. But... he’s mentioned her. In class. It’s just weird.” Kathryn touched Randall’s shoulder lightly and when she did, she caught Jesse staring at her over the bar. When her eyes met his, he broke contact quickly, sliding off his barstool, feet heavily hitting the floor. “Good night all. got work to do.”
         Neither of them said good-bye. 
         “She’s dead, right? They said ...” Randall whispered.
         “Yeah,” Kathryn finished gently.
         “That’s so weird,” Randall said again, shaking his head as he took another slug of his drink.
         “Sad," Kathryn said, because she couldn’t think of anything better. 
         But it was good enough for Randall, because he nodded vigorously as he set his glass back down onto the bar with too much force.

CHAPTER TWO
    THE WOMAN DETECTIVE STOOD ACROSS FROM ERIC AT THE POCK- marked table, blocking the interrogation room’s single window. Her straight brown hair fell to her shoulders, in contrast to her mannish outfit. The undeniable curves of her body looked like they had been squeezed