The Code of the Hills Read Online Free PDF

his answers.
    They went out for drinks that night. Charmed by his easy “aw shucks” manner and his sheer physical magnificence, she eagerly went home with him and tumbled into his bed that night. He ate her like ice cream, and she thought: this is it.
    But she had learned a lot about Noah since then. A man who’d initially appeared simply perfect was, like everyone, neither simple nor perfect. She could overlook some of his shortcomings, but after passing the milestone of her thirtieth birthday, and then her thirty-­first, she began to worry a little. Maybe she was just marking time with Noah; and time was slipping away. Thirty-­one years might be regarded as youthful in some places, but in the Ozarks a woman past thirty was over the hill.
    Satisfied by the phone call, Elsie peeled the foil from a Hershey’s Kiss. At least Noah Strong looked like a treasure. And she was still hungry for romance. “I think you’re on probation, Noah,” she said aloud. “We’ll see how you behave on Monday.”

Chapter Four
    E LSIE GENERALLY MET Monday mornings with dismay, but she was up before the sun today. She felt like her old self again and was anticipating her date night with pleasure. She liked the idea of starting the week on a bright note, she thought as she showered briskly, shaving her legs with smooth strokes. Standing before the foggy bathroom mirror, she applied her makeup with care and chose a brighter shade of lipstick than usual.
    After pulling on a pair of slim wool pants and buttoning a tight-­cropped blazer over a shiny blue camisole, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked more like a television version of a prosecutor than the real thing, but that suited her just fine; she didn’t want to look dowdy next to that good-­looking man. Balancing on the edge of her bed, she grimaced as she pulled on boots with painfully high heels. They killed her feet, but she examined herself with satisfaction: they looked really good. They’d set her back only forty-­two bucks at Shoe Carnival. She could find a bargain like nobody’s business.
    Leaning against the kitchen counter, she ate half a banana and washed it down with Diet Coke. There was no time for the coffeemaker; she’d get a cup at work. She didn’t want to risk missing Noah when he dropped by to see her. He might have an early court appearance, and she wanted to nail down their plans for the evening.
    As she drove her Ford Escort to the courthouse, even the traffic lights accommodated her. It was so early that she thought she might be the first one in the office, but her friend Breeon Johnson already sat behind her desk, checking her e-­mail. Elsie stuck her head in the door of Bree’s office.
    â€œ ’Morning, Bree.”
    â€œHey, ’morning to you. How did it go on Friday?”
    â€œGuilty. They gave him twenty years.”
    â€œThat’s great. You did good, honey. The case was falling apart on Thursday.”
    â€œOh, yes it was.” Elsie leaned against the door frame, struggling out of her winter coat. “So what did you do this weekend?”
    â€œLaundry. Sound glamorous?” Breeon was fiercely devoted to her dual roles as mother and prosecutor. A native of St. Louis, she’d moved to the Ozarks after law school, determined to make a go of her law school marriage. The marriage didn’t work out, but it produced her daughter, Taylor. Breeon’s grit was a quality that served her well, working as the only African-­American attorney in a community that still ran largely on the “good ole boy” system.
    Like most of southwest Missouri, McCown County had not yet embraced the notion of women in positions of influence or leadership. With the exception of Madeleine Thompson, no women held political office in the city or county; certainly, they did not sit on the bench. To find a woman circuit or associate circuit judge, it was necessary to