A Wrongful Death Read Online Free PDF

shrugged out of a poncho and draped it over a chair where it dripped water. She added her own slicker and jacket. It was wet and her back felt clammy.
    "Old man Diedricks built this cabin fifty years ago "Norris said, standing near the stove, warming his hands. "I was a young fellow, just out of the army, and he hired me to help him, cut wood, keep the woods cleared back in case of fire. Going on ninety, I guess. Blind now. Hasn't been here in twelve, thirteen years, but he paid me to keep it ready for him so when he came, he would have wood to burn, have lights to turn on and I guess he never wanted for much more than that. He'd come to get some work done. Said he couldn't stand the commotion all the time up in Portland." He backed away from the stove and sat on one of the upholstered chairs. "Good man, Hank Diedricks. A good man. Won't be coming back, but they pay me to keep it ready, just like he said."
    He became silent then and Barbara sat in the other chair as silent as Norris. He had not asked her a single question, and she was content not to initiate any explanation until the sheriff arrived. How much of that unconsciousness had been a sham? she wondered, remembering how the woman had held the boy, had drawn him in close to her. Why hadn't she spoken up? She had been like a dead weight all the way to the cabin, up the steps, none of that had been fake, but when Barbara had wrestled her onto the futon, she had been different. Dazed, certainly, but not the same kind of dead weight. And again, when Barbara pulled off her soaked jeans, she had lifted her hips, helping. Why hadn't she said something?
    It was another half hour before she heard a car pull in and stop. Norris got up to open the door and admit two men.
    "Curtis Connors, Dwayne Beacham, "he said. "That's Ms. Holloway. She's renting one of my cabins."
    They were both in their early fifties, one stout and swarthy, wearing a baseball cap, a fleece jacket and high boots; the other taller and thinner in a lined denim jacket and cowboy hat. They nodded to her and the stout one said, "What's going on here?"
    She told them about the boy and finding the woman on the ground. When she finished, Connors asked, "Who was she?"
    "No idea. I never met her. I saw them on the beach at a distance twice before today, but we didn't speak, didn't introduce ourselves."
    Beacham left to look over the rooms. He returned holding the two toy cars. "Guess there was a kid here, all right," he said. "There's a bloody washcloth in the bathroom."
    Connors asked more questions and clearly was not satisfied with her answers. "Why was the kid looking for you if you didn't know them?"
    "He wasn't looking for me," Barbara said. "He didn't even see me until I caught up with him. I think he found his mother and was going to go to the village for help. He was terrified."
    "He was going to swim over?" Connors said in a mean voice.
    "The tide was coming in, but he probably doesn't know a thing about tides. He wouldn't have made it," she added. An image formed of that small figure being overtaken by a wave, swept to sea. In a lower voice she said, "And neither would his mother. She was freezing out there, soaked, unconscious. How long would she have lasted? It would have been a double homicide."
    Connors looked disgusted. "No homicide. A cougar probably jumped her, scratched her up some."
    "No cougar," Norris said, shaking his head. He went to the door and retrieved the split log he had brought in earlier and held it out to Connors, pointing to some long black hairs caught in the rough cut.
    After a pause Connors said, "She's probably an illegal. Had a fight with her boyfriend and when you came he hid out until you left, then he hustled her and the kid into their car and took off."
    This time Barbara was shaking her head. "She'd been out there too long, and someone must have taken a computer. Look." She pointed to the computer cable. "And there's a printer cartridge in the wastebasket. There wasn't a