Heads You Lose Read Online Free PDF Page A

usual morning attire. The robe covered an ankle-length night dress with a ruffle around the collar. Betty had a few other versions patterned with flowers and one with bumble bees. Lacey was always surprised by the contrast between Betty’s sleepwear and outerwear. Outside, Betty always reverted to her old logger’s uniform: denim, flannel shirt, and hiking boots. Lacey preferred sleepwear Betty. She struck a far less intimidating figure.
    “Darling, am I glad to see you,” Betty said.
    This was one part of the job Lacey didn’t mind. Some people she was helping; she believed that. There were others, though . . . she didn’t know what she was doing for them.
    “Can you stay for a visit?” Betty asked.
    “I’m already late for work,” Lacey said.
    “Have you heard?”
    “I don’t know,” Lacey cautiously replied.
    “I have news.”
    “What?”
    Betty leaned in close, even though there was no one around for miles. “I heard Doc Holland sold his practice to some guy from the city.”
    “What city would that be?” Lacey asked.
    “San Francisco,” Betty replied as if that were an even bigger secret.
    “Why would you move from San Francisco to Mercer? Isn’t that suspicious?”
    “He arrived yesterday,” Betty replied. “You can make an appointment and start your investigation.”
     
     
    Lacey returned to her car. She’d already lost interest in the incoming doctor. Besides, she had always wanted the town to get a dentist. Sometimes it was just the sight of tooth decay that reminded her she was living in the sticks. The new doctor was one mystery she could put on hold. The other one, however, she couldn’t let slide.
    Darryl’s house was just a quick loop outside of her route to work. She decided to drive by, just to see if anything was amiss. She slowed in front of his rambler. He had repainted recently. She noted other improvements as well. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been seen around much. Maybe he was trying to make a break from the water business, keeping clear of his usual contacts. Lacey liked the idea—she could relate. Too bad he died. She couldn’t relate to that. Darryl’s truck was still parked out front, but there was no sign of anyone in the house. Why should there be? Darryl lived with his stepmom, but she worked full-time, and now most of him was lying alongside a hiking path twelve miles away.
    Suddenly, Lacey felt tears streaming down her face. Last night she’d seen just a body, and not even a whole one. Today she realized Darryl was gone for good. It’s not like they were close or anything; in fact, when he was around they hardly said a word to each other. But still, she had gotten used to him and now she’d have to get unused to him. Lacey wiped the tears away with her sleeve and kept driving until she reached the Tarpit. She’d never minded the name before, but today it reminded her that she was stuck and that it was time she got out of Mercer.
     
     
    “I’d like a nonfat soy-mocha latte,” Bernard, one of the regulars, said.
    “What size?” Lacey asked.
    “Medium, no, large.”
    Lacey poured a shot of espresso and mocha into the mug and steamed the soymilk, while starting another batch of espresso with her right hand. She looked at Bernard in his lumberjack shirt and work boots and wondered when it had happened—when he’d transformed from the guy who ordered black coffee and a bear claw to a man who buys city drinks that cost more than a full breakfast at the Jenkee’s down the street.
    Lacey kept this job because she thought she should have one on paper and she needed time away from Paul, but some part of her wished this town had stayed as it had once been—a town where people didn’t need to use more than two words to order a cup of joe. The one benefit of the job was that the morning rush kept her mind so busy on the small tasks at hand that she didn’t have too much time to think about her life and the mess she had made of it. Some days she still