Land of Entrapment Read Online Free PDF Page B

phone, staring blankly at the business card in my other hand. “Melissa T. Crown, Esq.,” it read. I turned it over and carefully punched the numbers she had written on my keypad.
    She picked up after the first ring. “K.C.?”
    I winced at the hope I heard in her voice. “Yeah, it’s me.” I gripped the railing on the front porch. “I’ll do it.”
    She didn’t say anything for a while but I heard her breathing. “Thank you,” she finally whispered.
    “I’ll drive up day after tomorrow. Where does Megan live? I’ll meet you there.”
    “Over behind the Monte Vista Firehouse.”
    “I’ll call you when I get into town. Give me the address then.”
    “I can’t begin to tell you—”
    “Later,” I interrupted. “I’ll talk to you in a couple of days. I’ll time it so I arrive after you’re done at work.”
    “That doesn’t matter. I’ll meet you whenever you get here.”
    I nodded to myself, feeling a little pang. Why hadn’t she extended herself to me like that three years ago? “Okay. I guess I’ll see you in a couple of days.
    Bye.” I hung up, not wanting to keep the channel open between us. I stood staring at nothing, listening to the hum of summer insects and the rustling of dogs on the porch. I missed some things about her, but I wasn’t able to remember how it had been. When I tried to think about what had attracted me to her, it was always overridden by the shock and pain I felt seeing her with Hillary that night in the parking lot.
    That night that triggered my leaving. I thought about the first time Melissa and I made love but I couldn’t remember quite how it happened. I threw a glance over at Jane and Dan.
    “Am I still in love with her?” I asked them. Jane looked at me with an expression that I would have sworn was canine pity. No, I decided, I wasn’t. I did need some kind of closure, though. Maybe later, Melissa and I would have that talk she mentioned. I sighed. I had some more phone calls to make.
    Chapter Three
    THE DRIVE FROM Central Texas to Albuquerque impresses upon the eyes how huge Texas is and how unrelentingly flat it can be. Perfect landscape for listening to music like Shawn Colvin and Catie Curtis, though I also secretly liked to listen to country when I had to cover long distances by car. I sang along to Trick Pony, watching the horizon retreat behind heat waves and rolling hills only to stretch itself flat along a series of high plains, no matter how fast I drove. I had already counted four dead armadillos, eight ground squirrels, and six rabbits on the asphalt.
    Summer was rough on people, but rougher still on animals.
    Heat swam across Highway 84, which connected Lubbock to I-20 on the Texas side and Clovis, New Mexico on the other. I was just coming into Lubbock at one-thirty. I had left around four that morning to beat as much heat as possible. Granted, New Mexico isn’t a slacker in the summer heat department. Desert natives will tell you, however, that “it’s a dry heat.”
    Which basically means it’s the difference between a steam room and a dry sauna. I prefer a dry sauna because at least your clothing doesn’t cling to you like wet sheets. Like sweat, it dries quickly. The closer I got to New Mexico, the dryer the air.
    I pulled into a gas station and began filling up my Subaru. Chris sometimes teased me about my “sporty little dyke-mobile” and then she’d laugh and tell me I looked sexy in it. While my tank filled, I rummaged around in my car, picking up bits of trash to throw out. I had packed a couple of duffle bags and put them in the back. My laptop rested in its case on the passenger seat and a variety of books and pairs of shoes lay haphazardly in the back seat. Comfortable clutter. I reached for an empty cup that had held Starbucks coffee that morning. As I did so, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the ID.
    “Hey, Mom. What’s up?” I balanced the phone on my shoulder as I walked to the trash can and