Break No Bones Read Online Free PDF

mousseing. Every day is casual Friday. Less than casual.
    While I worked the toaster, Mr. Coffee brewed. By now the sun was up, and the day was warming. Again, I headed outside.
    I'm a news junkie. Gotta have it. When home, my morning begins with CNN and a paper. Observer in Charlotte. Gazette in Montreal. NY Times e-mail edition. When traveling, I fal back on USA Today, the local press, even tabloids if desperate.
    There was no home delivery at "Sea for Miles." While eating, I perused a Post and Courier I'd purchased on Thursday but barely skimmed.
    A family had died in a tenement blaze. Faulty wiring was being blamed.
    A man was suing after finding an ear in his coleslaw at a fried chicken franchise. Police and health officials had discovered no missing ears among the workers involved in the restaurant's coleslaw supply chain. DNA testing was being done.
    A man was missing, and authorities were seeking help from the public. Jimmie Ray Teal, forty-seven, left his brother's Jackson Street apartment around three on Monday, May 8, heading for a medical appointment. Teal hadn't been seen since.
    My brain cels hoisted that little flag. Dewees Island?
    No way. Teal had been breathing eleven days ago. The victim in our body bag hadn't drawn oxygen in at least two years.
    I was down to the weekly neighborhood section when my mobile sounded. I checked the caler ID. Showtime.
    Emma was a street fighter. She went straight for the kidneys.
    "Do you want them to win?"
    My beach-walk lecture to myself.
    "When?" I asked.
    "Nine tomorrow morning?"
    "What's the address?"
    I wrote it down.
    Ten yards offshore, a pair of porpoises arced in and out of the sea, the morning sun glistening their backs a shiny blue-gray porcelain. I watched them nose up, then plunge, vanishing into a world I didn't know.
    Draining my coffee, I wondered.
    What unknown world was I about to enter?
    ===OO=OOO=OO===
    The remainder of the day passed uneventfuly.
    At the site, I explained to my students what had taken place folowing their departure the previous day. Then, while I logged last-minute photos and notes, they refiled open trenches. Together we cleaned shovels, trowels, brushes, and screens, returned our carts to the landings building, and boarded the Aggie Gray for her six o'clock crossing.
    That evening, the group ate shrimp and oysters at the Boat House at Breach Inlet. After dinner, we reconvened on Anne's veranda for one final class meeting. The students reviewed what they'd done, and double-checked cataloging on al artifacts and bones. Around nine, they redistributed equipment among their vehicles, exchanged hugs, and were gone.
    I suffered the usual post-colective experience letdown. Sure, I was relieved. Field school was concluded without any disasters of note, and now I could focus on Emma's skeleton. But the students' departure also left me feeling dismaly empty.
    The kids could be exasperating, no question. The unending hubbub. The clowning. The inattention. But my students were also energizing, bursting with enthusiasm, and lousy with youth.
    I sat a few moments, enveloped by the silence in Anne's milion-dolar home. Irrationaly, I felt the stilness as ominous, not calming.
    Moving through the house, I extinguished lights, then climbed the stairs to my room. Opening the glass doors, I welcomed the sound of waves on sand.
    ===OO=OOO=OO===
    By eight thirty the next morning, I was roler-coastering the Cooper River Bridge, a soaring postmodern structure linking Mount Pleasant and the offshore islands with By eight thirty the next morning, I was roler-coastering the Cooper River Bridge, a soaring postmodern structure linking Mount Pleasant and the offshore islands with Charleston proper. With its colossal struts and arching backbone, the thing always makes me think of an impressionistic triceratops, frozen in steel. The bridge rises so high above terra firma, Anne stil white-knuckles it every time she crosses.
    MUSC is in the northwestern part of the