Past Malice Read Online Free PDF

rubbed his nose in it. Told him how gorgeous the site is, how all the contexts were perfect, and how we were finding the most amazing stuff.”
    “We haven’t gotten far below the nineteenth-century levels yet,” I reminded her, “but if you like whiteware, we have tons of really nice transfer print. That brick feature looks promising, though; it may be a foundation. But I suspect you didn’t mention the ogling tourists, the cold scrutiny of the historical society members, and the crabby neighbors, right?”
    Again, Meg made a sour face and shook her head. She unloaded another bag. “No. He wants to experience the field, he should be in the field.”
    “I can’t wait until you start work on your thesis. It will be payback time for Neal, then.”
    “Who says we’ll be together that long?” She tossed her head so that her rows of silver earrings clattered, but Meg’s breeziness indicated to me that she said so, or believed so, and nothing was going to change that. The others came in, depositing backpacks and bundles of food on the floor.
    I’d worked with them all before and had to admit, I had it pretty good as far as crews went, on this project. Dian had been at Penitence Point with me as well, and was almost ready to start her dissertation work next year. A little taller than Meg, and all dark curls and curves, Dian, although a fair student and a very nice person, always made me imagine that all she ever thought about was sex. She had a permanent grin that was half lazy leer and half cat-that-ate-the-cream. It was unnerving at times.
    The two guys working with me were a little more innocuous than Meg’s aggression or Dian’s lasciviousness. Rob was a compact and jovial little gorilla whose on-again, off-again relationship with Dian didn’t seem to worry either of them too much. Joe was tall, fair skinned, and vague, a dreamy first year whose black hair and eyebrows were the most definite thing about him. They followed us into the back house and dumped down their clean laundry and groceries onto the floor with all the carelessness of youth.
    I looked around at the room in the little house where they were sleeping, instantly made less tidy by the mere presence of the students. “I’m sorry you’re all out here in the boonies. I’d let you into the house to sleep but—”
    “But you haven’t got a floor in the dining room, and the living room is full of the stuff from the dining room, andyour sister’s in the spare room.” Dian patted my arm. “Don’t keep sweating it, Emma, we don’t perceive it as some kind of political statement, with management sleeping in the big house and labor in the outbuildings.”
    I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin. “But Dian, that’s actually how I meant it.”
    Meg waved my worries away. “We’re fine. No bugs, no rain, fifteen minutes to work, no problem. We’re going to get the grill started. Can we cook you anything?”
    We had an old stone barbecue with a chimney out back. “No thanks, Meg. I think I’ll wait for Brian and my sister to get home.”
    “So we’re actually going to get to meet her?” Rob took a beer from the cooler and opened it. “What’s your sister like? Do you guys look alike?”
    “No, not at all. Bucky’s a lot younger than I am, almost eight years.” I was at a loss to describe her politely. “She’s…more compact and athletically built.”
    “Shorter and flatter,” translated Dian.
    “Well, maybe a bit, five-five or so. I guess our faces aren’t too different—my nose is way cuter, though, if anyone asks, and she’s got that stubborn chin on her. Same hair and skin color, and freckles—neither one of us can be out in the sun without scorching—but her hair is short, it was shorter than Meg’s at one point, but now it’s down to her ears. It still looks a trifle rad, but Mother is delighted.”
    “And she’s spending her vacation here because…?” Meg was piling packages of ground meat, hot dogs, condiments,