Ms. Got Rocks Read Online Free PDF Page B

ramp to park. Within thirty minutes the plane was fueled for tomorrow and they were at home for the night in Powell River, BC, Canada.
    Adjacent to the airport, was a large motel that welcomed pets. They checked in and then took a stretching walk. Afterward, Rocky flaked out in the shower and had no intention of moving for at least another five minutes while the dogs tested the beds.
    The hot water was beating down on her head. Rocky had not had a shower for three days. It felt wondrously good, Rocky planned to grow there.
    With two sets of clean clothes, three days of dog chow and a couple of protein bars remaining it looked like they needed to get close to California tomorrow.
    Tomorrow was tomorrow and Rocky was going to enjoy a game of Frisbee with the dogs tonight and then settle in for a knit and TV evening.
    Powell River was a bustling airport at night, also. Rocky had difficulty sleeping with all the takeoffs and landings all night. Having spent the last week sleeping either under the plane or in the drafty interior of the cargo bay, the motel room seemed stuffy and close.
    Phoebe had parked herself in front of the door, and Lovie was on her back with her feet in the air sleeping tight for the night. Lovie knew that spooky Phoebe would let her know if anything should become amiss.
    Tossing and turning, finally at two AM, Rocky turned on the light and knit until she could not stay awake another minute.
    It was hours past sunrise when she finally woke. Both the dogs were anxious to go out, she threw on some jeans and a sweatshirt, and they got out for a walk along the busy airport road.
    McDonalds handled the breakfast, the checklist was finished. Rocky boosted the dogs into the bird and they were ready to go again. 
    By late that night Rocky wanted to see Devlin and Margie in Auburn, California.
    They needed to make a left hand turn immediately after take off and use the pass to get through the mountains without having to go above ten thousand feet. Once they were past the little city of Hope, Rocky was going across the border and stop for a lunch and fuel break in Kennewick, Washington. 
    Going inland that far will take her around the busy Vancouver Victoria Seattle Portland corridor, which to Rocky was the equivalent of choosing a small two-lane country road rather than the Los Angeles Harbor Freeway at four thirty in the afternoon.
    Getting through the pass, was very turbulent, the plane was dropping and climbing like a buzzard on speed. There was no boring flying here, unlike yesterday. She was too busy for flight seeing over the Fraser River Gorge. She was relieved when she was on the other side. Her two canine flight assistants were swallowing hard, they very seldom got airsick, but that ride sure would have been a good time for it.
    They were past that now. The air had smoothed out again, and the sun was beating down. 
    The dogs had returned to their beds and were sleeping. The temperature had risen at least twenty degrees since they left Powell River.
    Eastern Washington, Oregon and the interior California Big Valley would be giving them the heat and some turbulence from thunderstorms in the afternoon. Rocky had hoped to be on the ground before late afternoon, but she had slept in. If it got too bad she would stop over in Southern Oregon or Redding California for the night.
    *   *   *
    "How is Moscow?” Antonio Harris asked in his mellow but juvenile pitched voice from the family compound in Boston.
    “You know how I loathe and despise this city, don’t ask stupid questions,” said his sister Jasmine Harris. “What the fuck is happening with Julio in Africa? I want an answer, just a simple yes or no outta him, and I want it today. Did it arrive or not?”
    “Come on Jazz, you know how hard it is to get a straight answer from them.”
    “ Little brother, you get on to that rat-fuck scumbag Julio and tell him that if I don’t know where my fucking shipment is in the next three hours, I’m on a