Bitter Crossing (A Peyton Cote Novel) Read Online Free PDF

Garrett was still a one-traffic-light town. Main Street looked exactly as it had when Peyton had left, only Garrett Drug had given way to a Rite-Aid.
    A tall, angular, slender man in creased black slacks, snakeskin cowboy boots, and a dark leather jacket approached the booth. His right sleeve was torn and there was dirt near his elbow.
    Peyton stood. “Great to see you, Jonathan.”
    She’d never liked the way he treated her kid sister. And over the years of holiday gatherings and occasional meetings, she’d made sure to leave a not-so-subtle trail of comments letting him know it. Their embrace was awkward.
    He turned to his wife. “Elise, may I kiss you, or should I shake your hand?”
    “Not here, please,” she groaned.
    “Well, you look great. Hey, were you dropping off some resumes?” He slid in next to his wife.
    “No. I told you daycare would cost a lot. Wouldn’t be worth it.”
    “Your mother’s free all day. Or I could stay home, write and watch Max …”
    Peyton shot Elise a questioning look.
    Elise looked away. “Please don’t rub your dirty sleeve against my sweater.”
    “Sorry,” Jonathan said.
    “Where’ve you been?” Elise asked.
    “Out walking. I fell.”
    “Aren’t you teaching today?”
    “Took a sick day.”
    “But you took three last week.”
    “I was at a conference last week, Elise. Those aren’t sick days. And you don’t really care anymore anyway.”
    “Everything alright?” Peyton said.
    “Damn it, Jonathan. I told you. Not here.”
    “Fine,” he said.
    “Maybe I should go,” Peyton began.
    “No,” Elise said. “It’s nothing. Only that this is his new job.”
    “Starting a new job is tough. I’ve only been in mine for a few months.” Peyton drank some coffee, glad, for her sister’s sake, that Morris Picard was no longer in the diner to witness Jonathan on his “sick day.”
    “Still enjoying teaching?” Peyton asked Jonathan.
    He shrugged and found his reflection in the window, patting his hair and adjusting the cashmere sweater beneath his jacket. “High school is fine. Money’s terrible, but vacations are long. I’d rather be pursuing my research interests. The Industrial Revolution is my passion. It’s what I researched in my Ph.D. program. I’d like time to work on my dissertation. Several people have told me there’s a bestselling book in it, and I’m something of an expert.”
    “I told Peyton about Alan McAfee, our Boston lawyer,” Elise said in a voice that sounded eager for approval. “Maybe he can help her redo her settlement with Jeff.”
    “He can’t help Peyton,” he said.
    “Why? He’s very good. You said it yourself.”
    “He’s an adoption attorney, Elise, and, God knows, we don’t need that now.”
    “Let it go,” Elise said. “One baby is all I can handle.”
    Jonathan shook his head.
    “I thought you had a wrongful-termination lawsuit,” Peyton said.
    Jonathan looked at her, then waved and called to Donna. “Bring me coffee,” he said.
    They were quiet while Donna filled his cup. Peyton looked at her watch. She wanted to know more about the poker game Kenny Radke allegedly attended since he’d now provided names of other players.
    “Great seeing you both.” She stood, put some cash on the table, turned to Jonathan, and smiled. “Be careful walking.”
    He looked up from his menu. “What do you mean?”
    “You said you fell.”
    “Oh, yeah,” he said and returned to his menu.
    When Peyton reached the door, she turned back. Elise wore an expression of sorrow and confusion. Peyton remembered that look—she’d worn it herself for months after her father lost the farm.

FIVE
    W HEN P EYTON WORKED THE midnight shift, or “pulled mids,” as agents called it, she slept from 9:30 a.m. to 2 p.m., getting up in time to greet Tommy when he got off the bus. It wasn’t eight hours, but it was enough. This day, her trip to the diner skewed her sleep pattern. Now she sat on the edge of her bed, groggy, at