Death's Last Run Read Online Free PDF Page A

his professional concerns.”
    Clare flashed a super-fake smile. “I love it when you use big words
and
belittle me all in one sentence.” Okay, that wasn’t a great start in the maturity direction.
    â€œMore important,” Amanda said, “Inspector Norris doesn’t know your name. He knows you’ll be arriving — for some reason, one of my colleagues saw fit to loop him in that far — but he doesn’t know who you are or where you’ll be staying.”
    â€œSo we’re not on the same team?”
    â€œWe are . . .” Amanda frowned. “But Norris grew up in Pemberton. That’s thirty minutes up the highway from Whistler. Two of his high school friends are prime suspects in this case. The decision from above is that the less he knows, the better.”
    Clare threw her hands in the air. “Of course the fact he’s local should be a point against the man. No sense treating that as an asset. No wonder he doesn’t want me here. His employers already treat him like garbage.”
    â€œIt’s an obstacle, Clare. Don’t turn it into a roadblock. I requested you for this job because I’m impressed by your open mind.”
    â€œYou requested me?”
    â€œI think you have the right character to immerse yourself in this culture. You’ll want to add a couple of traits to help you blend in — like an eco-friendly mindset and an appreciation of organic food.”
    â€œAre you asking me to be a vegetarian?”
    â€œNo.” Amanda smiled. “Just, if you’re picking up potato chips, grab the hippie kind, with the biodegradable packaging. And drink local craft beer rather than Bud. It’s not a culture of extremists, but they do have a sensibility about preserving the environment. They love the outdoors.”
    â€œSounds okay,” Clare said.
    â€œYou’ll have to watch the marijuana, though. We don’t want you so stoned that you’re not in control of your reactions.”
    â€œI don’t smoke pot. So that won’t be a problem.”
    Amanda frowned. “Actually, I think you
should
smoke, at least a little. It’s an unconventional directive, but your new peer group smokes marijuana liberally.”
    â€œFine,” Clare said, a small grin tugging the corner of her lips. “But you can’t make me inhale.”

FIVE

    WADE
    Wade’s head throbbed. It had been throbbing most mornings lately. His throat was dry and so was the water glass on the bedside table. He thought vaguely about cutting back his smoking but really, why? It wasn’t like he wanted a long life.
    A ray of sun pierced in from the skylight, hitting the snow on the mountain and reflecting directly into Wade’s eyes. Even nature wouldn’t leave him alone.
    Wade recalled a distant past when he used to love waking up. It was a very distant past. Before he owned a bar. Before he was married. Maybe it was a false memory.
    He shuffled out to the kitchen and was surprised to see Georgia there, also in a robe, waxed legs stretching down to her spa slippers. She looked like she was in
Perfect Housewife
magazine. Wade wanted to close the page.
    â€œIsn’t it Monday?” Wade said, meaning,
Why aren’t you already at that desk in Vancouver you love so much?
    â€œNope. Sunday. Would you like me to squeeze you some juice?”
    Wade wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist from behind. He tried to figure out how he could slip a shot of vodka into the juice without her seeing. “You squeeze the oranges; I’ll squeeze you.”
    â€œMaybe not at the same time.” Georgia uncoiled Wade from around her.
    Wade shrugged and took a stool across the double-wide counter. The vodka was in the cupboard beside him, but he’d wait until Georgia left the room. He pulled that day’s newspaper toward him, hoping — and not hoping — for a new article about Sacha.
    â€œYou still read