Always Love a Villain on San Juan Island Read Online Free PDF Page A

grow,” Peter finished. “The number of students leveled off at eight hundred in 1998. Like old Thomas himself, the Board of Directors said: ‘Enough. We have grown enough.’”

    Kyra had been watching Wisely’s front door since after a very early breakfast, but he hadn’t appeared. His sporty Toyota sat parked where he’d left it yesterday afternoon. She’d dared to drive away once before lunch to the gas station down the street for a bathroom break, and was relieved to see the Toyota still there when she got back. Sitting in her car for five hours was not a pleasure. Though she would bill for the whole time.
    She wondered how Noel was doing with that professor’s problem. What kinds of methods would one use to catch an academic cheat? Surveillance of the student, watching through binoculars to see if he was plagiarizing? Tap his phone to hear someone feeding him words, sentences, paragraphs? Noel would have figured it out by the time they met up. Which, she had hoped, would be this evening. But right now it didn’t look like she’d be getting any photos today.
    At which moment the front door opened and out came Wisely. On his left arm, a dark-haired woman, well curved, a yellow jacket and skirt holding her together tautly down to mid-thigh. They walked along the path to the sidewalk. In his right hand, the cane. Was she supporting him? Did he favor his right side? The woman opened the driver’s door, Wisely slid in with great (faked?) care. She sidled into the passenger seat. What the hell was going on here, a little method acting?
    They drove off. Kyra let a pickup pass her by, then followed. They drove toward the town center. A little lunch with your floozy, Fred my boy? Kyra let a gray sedan pull in between her and the Toyota, which was good because Wisely suddenly turned onto Carolina, as did the pickup, but not the sedan. Kyra went into her turn slowly, spotting the Toyota ahead. No suspicions; she was good at tracking. Across Cornwall Avenue, sharp right onto Logan. Wisely found a parking space, stopped and backed in. Kyra drove past him, another space two ahead. Excellent. She too parked, eye turned to the rearview mirror the whole time. Wisely got out on his side, aha! no cane, went around to the passenger side and opened the door. He reached toward the woman and she got out. Not touching now, they paced along the sidewalk side by side. So, it had all really been an act for his neighbors. He slid his arm around his companion’s waist. She let it lie there for a moment, then sped up, and it dropped to his side. An argument between lovers? Maybe the reason for the late start. Kyra snapped five photos in quick succession. They stepped into Lew’s. Well, he’s got good taste; Kyra was suddenly hungry.

    Noel read three papers by Jordan Beck on Peter Langley’s computer: “Rivers Dancing,” a clever description of the multiple movements of flowing water; “Dark Night of the Pole,” a comedic diatribe describing his friend’s laments for his on-again, off-again girlfriend; and “How to Build a Cabin in a TV Studio,” a surrealistic tale about the hundred things that went wrong in a television series he participated in at a local station in Spokane, his hometown. “You’re right,” he said to Peter, “Jordan’s got talent. Sometimes a little uncontrolled in his style, a bit too unsure of himself to push right through, but he sees and describes with real clarity.”
    â€œYeah, I think so. But here—” Peter handed Noel a thick sheaf of paper. “The thesis.”
    â€œThe novella.” Noel took it.
    â€œTea? A lemonade? Beer?”
    â€œThanks. When I’ve finished this, yeah, something would be good.”
    â€œThen I’ll leave you for an hour. Need to go to the library.”
    Noel sat, and read. At first he’d thought he could read it diagonally, get a gist of the thing