The Outrage - Edge Series 3 Read Online Free PDF Page A

Something that means you have to be there in a hurry? I know you don’t approve of prying, but I don’t intend that, sir. ‘I’m just intrigued to know why a man would turn down excellent food in wonderful surroundings. With pleasant company, too - I refer to my wife and daughter, of course - unless he has a good reason?’
    ‘If you don’t mean to pry into my business, then don’t do it,’ Edge growled sourly as his brief empathy for the man evaporated. And he peered fixedly out of the window, then shot a glance toward the other passenger in the noisy, jolting Concord and saw that Quinn was unaffected by the crass ingratitude
    Quinn said: ‘You are perfectly right, of course. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry about the way I seem to go a little crazy when I get home after being away for more than a day or two. This time it seems my insanity has apparently taken the form of wanting to share my good luck. Demonstrate to somebody else how fortune has smiled on me. Please forget it. Forget I said anything about anything, sir. I’m a babbling fool and no mistake about that.’
    Quinn peered out of the window on his side of the stage as he made the apology and offered his excuse. Then he shifted his gaze to look directly ahead. And Edge saw he wore a foolish grin, as if to confirm how much of an idiot he considered himself.
    ‘No sweat, feller.’
    One of the two men up on the Concord’s box seat yelled above the clatter of the stage:
    ‘Springdale in five minutes, folks! Five minutes to Springdale! Gonna have a thirty minute stopover there!’
    Edge sensed Quinn was watching him quizzically and asked: ‘You got something else on your mind?
    ‘Merely a recommendation, sir. If during the stopover in town you are in need of refreshment not of the alcohol variety, please do try Nancy’s café. There’s a choice of coffee strengths available and a fine selection of cakes and pastries. Although, like I said, Nancy won’t be in charge today. But Muriel Mandrell and her daughter always provide excellent service when my daughter isn’t on duty.’
    Edge found it easy to show a half smile that he hoped went a little way to negating the effect of his earlier ill humour with this man trying so hard to make amends when he was not at fault in the first place.
    ‘Much obliged but I don’t reckon I’m turned out for paying a visit to a café run by ladies.’
    Quinn studied Edge briefly and there was in his eyes a dull glaze that signalled he continued to feel the effects of too much liquor. Then he nodded. ‘Perhaps you are right, sir. In which case the Grand Hotel has a first class saloon. Grand is rather a misnomer I’ve always felt. There’s certainly no need to dress formally to pay a visit there. If I were not so anxious to return to the bosom of my family – and hadn’t already slaked my thirst so well from my own supply . . . ‘ He tapped the valise. ‘Then I would be happy to join you.’
    ‘Maybe I’ll stop by the place for a beer, feller.’ Edge dropped his cigarette butt to the floor and ground it out under a heel.
    Then they both withdrew into silence as they returned to watching the passing scene from their respective windows: one seeing this part of east Texas for a disinterested first time and the other drinking in the familiar sights with unconcealed enthusiasm. After twisting and turning for so many miles through undulating country the trail had for some time been cutting straight as an arrow along the centre of a broad east to west valley. Northward cotton plantations stretched from the trail to the lower slopes of the distant valley side while to the south was an expanse of grazing land featured here and there with extensive stands of broad leaf timber: maybe a section of the Cassidy land of which Quinn had spoken. Then the Concord began to slow on the start of a street between a stone church at the rear of a walled cemetery to the south side and the clapboard Avery County School behind a picket