Half Past Mourning Read Online Free PDF Page A

street.
    “Bet somebody doesn’t know an address,” she told the cat twining around her feet. She had barely settled into her corrections when the doorbell rang.
    “Looking for me?” She pushed the papers away. “More likely needs directions and I’m the only one on the block who’s home,” she told Sinbad.
    Nina opened the door to find a nameless but familiar man on her doorstep. The last rays of sun caught the foxy red sheen of his hair, but the grey eyes didn’t seem as distant as she’d remembered.
    “Nina? Peter Shayne from the gymkhana. You went off before the judges could give you the trophy you won. I thought I’d better bring it myself.” He held out a small plaque with a gold car mounted in the center. “And I’d like to talk to you about the car, the T-Bird, and what you told me about its history. I think I have something that belongs to you. Do you have time?”

Chapter 3
    “Something that belongs to me?” Nina was certain she misunderstood. “I don’t think…”
    A touch of color swept the man’s face. “I believe so.” He glanced around the quiet neighborhood. “I’d like to explain, and I want to hear more of Danny Wilson’s story, if you don’t mind talking about it. But perhaps this isn’t a good time?”
    Nina stepped back. This man had Danny’s car; he might have information he didn’t understand, a clue, to Danny. After all this time she wouldn’t turn away anything that might bring her answers. “No, no, I’m not doing anything that can’t wait.” She gestured to the living room. “Please, come in, Mr....? Dr....?” She stopped in confusion, not remembering the name he’d given.
    “Peter,” he answered. “Peter Shayne. I teach over at San Felipe, and formally it’s Dr. Shayne. Peter is fine.”
    Nina held the door a moment after he’d entered the room, still dazed by his arrival. Shaking off her perplexity, she closed the door and followed him into the small living room.
    “Please, won’t you sit down and tell me what brought you here? I don’t even know how you found me.” Nina sank into a small club chair, and Peter took the larger one beside it.
    “Your address was on the registration form from the gymkhana,” he reminded her. “Once I found Jasmine Street, the rest was easy. And I did want you to have this.” He put the gold-trimmed plaque into her hands. “You earned it, and I think winning that event must have meant a lot to you.”
    Nina ran a tentative finger over the small gold car mounted in the center. “It does…and it doesn’t.” She looked up to find him watching her, one russet eyebrow cocked above slate grey eyes. “That doesn’t make much sense to you, I guess.”
    A shrug and a rueful smile met her glance. “No, but if you want to talk about it, I’ll try to understand.”
    “Danny and I, well, we used to go to a lot of those events. We had a running bet about which of us could rack up more trophies before our wedding. It was a game, but we put our hearts into it. And since we both drove the T-Bird, it was a contest of skill. Was he a better driver or was I, that was the bet. Driving at the gymkhana last week was like going back, trying to win the bet one more time. Somehow I almost believed that when I got to the finish line Danny would be there to meet me. Wishful thinking, maybe, but just for a second I fooled myself that it could happen. For that minute I believed it, thought winning mattered.” Her foolish fancy sounded absurd in her own ears, but Peter Shayne just nodded. “He wasn’t there, of course, so, well, it didn’t matter after all, did it?”
    Head cocked, the late sun coming through the window glinting on copper hints in his hair, her visitor seemed the model of a grave professor. “I see.” He sat back, his lean frame a darker grey shadow in the leather chair. “Whatever motivated you to make the run, I’m glad you did. I took a lot of pleasure in watching you. Hope I can handle that car half as well