Summer Lightning Read Online Free PDF Page B

woods, with the owls hooting and the nightjars rattling. There’d been that time he’d awakened in the peace of a perfect, dew-moist morning, only to have a rising crow shoot a stream of foul . . .
    Turning onto his side, Jeff wondered why he couldn’t stop thinking about birds. Where had he heard a canary today? A canary in a cage. He couldn’t recall, but it probably wasn’t important anyhow. Not as important as sleep.
    Five minutes later, fully dressed, Jeff stepped into the small lobby. “Where’s the girl?”
    “Really, Mr. Dane, I must protest. We are a respectable hotel with a high-class clientele. Asking me to pay off a . . .”
    His words were cut off by a brown fist suddenly tightening his skinny tie. “Where did she go?” Jeff asked, spacing each word out.
    “Over there,” the man gasped, his hands flopping like dying fish.
    Dropped none too gently, Mr. Dilworthy said, rubbing his throat, “Really, Mr. Dane! Roughhousing is not admired at this hotel. And as for your lady ‘friend,’ she really can’t stay in the lobby all night. You’ll have to ask her to go elsewhere.”
    But Jeff was already looking down the lobby. Miss Parker had her back turned, but he recognized the covered birdcage. Something had driven her out of her boardinghouse and into the night to call on a man. Jeff knew it had to be something big.
    “Miss Parker?” he asked, coming up behind her. “What’s the . . .”
    He almost bit his tongue. When the girl turned, he beheld a wide pair of eyes the color of twilight in a spiritual face that could haunt a hardheaded man’s dreams. As for the rest, she was pale and thin in her gray dress with the ugly pattern, her dark auburn hair pulled ruthlessly into a low tight bun. A few strands of hair had escaped and trailed in her reddened eyes. One small hand held the birdcage by the ring in the top.
    “I beg your pardon,” he said, backing up. “I thought .  .  .”
    “Oh, Mr. Dane!” She flung out her hand as though in supplication, her voice rough. When she closed her eyes, Jeff could tell she was struggling to regain some composure.
    “Here now,” he said, catching her hand and chafing it gently. “You come over here and sit down.”
    She let him lead her to a plush sofa before she pulled her hand away. “I mustn’t. My dress . . .”
    “What is all that?”
    “Soot, I think.”
    Jeff saw that what he’d thought was a pattern on the gray stuff of her dress was in fact a scattering of tiny holes burned into the fabric.
    “Never mind the damn sofa,” he said. “What’s happened to you?”
    As calmly as though she were discussing ancient history, she said, “My boardinghouse has burned down. Orpheus awakened me in time. I don’t really remember how I got . . . out.”
    “My Lord,” he said, shocked, urging her once more to seat herself. “Hey, Dilworthy,” he called, turning his head to glare at the desk clerk. “Bring me a shot of something strong. Whiskey, brandy, whatever you’ve got. Hurry up.”
    Mr. Dilworthy pursed his lips as though quelling thoughts he dared not utter. However, he brought out a bottle from beneath the counter and poured a liberal dose into a clean glass. “Not a saloon,” he muttered as he put the tray down on the table.
    “Here, now, Miss Parker. Get that down.”
    “Oh, no, sir. I promised my aunt I’d never touch spirits.”
    “It’ll do you good.” He held the glass out.
    Edith took a taste, then licked her lips like a cat. “It’s dreadful!” she said in surprise. “I always thought it must be marvelous, so many people indulge in it to excess.”
    “It’s only nasty going down. On the inside, it’s fine.”
    Screwing up her face, Edith tossed back the liquid in a single, burning gulp. She strangled, coughed, and wiped her burning eyes. After a moment, she became conscious of a glow like a hot coal in her interior.
    “I do feel warmer. When the fire engines came, I got sprayed and I thought I’d taken a