The Edge of Normal Read Online Free PDF

gets. Winds slap his Cessna Skyhawk about like a toy. He grinds his teeth and tightens his grip on the controls, keeping a sharp eye on his instruments.
    He knew it was going to be like this, but he prefers to fly his own plane whenever he can, especially when called to places like Jefferson, places that have few commercial flights, places where the only other option would be hours of driving up a long stretch of freeway. Still, he could use a break. He glances at his untouched thermos, craving a quick dose of caffeine, but the plane lurches, buffeted by northeast winds, and he decides not to risk it.
    Nearly there. He has flown to Jefferson before, and the landing pattern is clear in his mind. He radios the tower and watches his altitude.
    The wind slackens as the plane descends into a layer of heavy, wet clouds. He’s flying blind. The Cessna handles well, but he’s relieved when he finally slips beneath the cloud cover at thirty-two hundred feet. Now he has a clear view. The river winds through the valley like a fat green snake. The airstrip appears below, rimmed by a horseshoe of snowy mountains that disappear into the clouds.
    Dr. Lerner angles his Cessna toward the landing strip. With a practiced hand, he makes his turns, gliding lower, lower, making minor corrections as gusts strike the plane, lining up with the runway, settling into final approach.
    This transition from air to land, from bird to vehicle, always gives him a visceral thrill. He adjusts the flaps, cuts speed, and straightens up, ready for the wheels to set down with a satisfying thump. A strong gust lifts and tilts the plane. He corrects, regains the center line, and abruptly drops down. The right wheel grips the runway, the left snaps down, and then gravity pulls tight and the Cessna shudders down the runway, shedding speed.
    The plane eases almost to a stop at the end, and then Dr. Lerner turns and wheels slowly toward a cluster of buildings. He maneuvers down a lane and tucks the Cessna into a slot designated for visitor aircraft, where he shuts down the engine.
    After making the appropriate notes in his flight log, he opens the cockpit and climbs out. He walks around, double-checking everything and securing the tail before grabbing his bag and heading across the tarmac toward a weathered building with a wall of windows.
    A stocky, severe-looking woman in a raincoat and shiny boots comes out into the cold to greet him. She introduces herself as Jefferson County Deputy District Attorney Jackie Burke. Dr. Lerner shakes her hand, and they tip their heads together, conferring briefly before coming inside.
    Only two men are waiting in the lounge, but Dr. Lerner would have spotted Gordon Cavanaugh in a room full of white, middle-aged fathers. He sits hunched over his coffee, wearing an expression that Dr. Lerner has seen many times: a mixture of shock, relief, and exhaustion.
    Burke introduces Tilly Cavanaugh’s father, who looks up at Dr. Lerner but says nothing. The man sitting next to him, a uniformed, athletic-looking young man, stands.
    “This is Deputy Hudson,” Burke says. “He’s working closely with the district attorney’s office on this case. I’ll make sure he has the relevant files ready when you come by my office later. In the meantime, he’ll be helping with logistics.”
    “Consider me your liaison with the DA’s office,” the young deputy says, gripping the doctor’s hand in a friendly shake. “I’ll be your driver and personal guide. Just call me for anything you might need while you’re here.”
    Dr. Lerner thanks him, turns to Mr. Cavanaugh, and says, “If you two don’t mind, I’d like to speak with Mr. Cavanaugh privately for a few minutes.”
    The pair nod and head toward the hallway leading toward the front entry while Dr. Lerner steps over to a coffee pot on a corner table. By the time he pours himself a cup and turns around, he and Mr. Cavanaugh have the lounge to themselves.
    “My wife is at home with Tilly,”