Under Cover of Daylight Read Online Free PDF Page A

be for the wrong reason. You do something like this, take these risks, get your hands dirty, it should be for the right reason. Because it’s worth doing whatever it takes to protect your home.”
    “You mean if he helped, it’d be because he loved you, wanted to protect you? Like that?”
    “Yes,” said Kate.
    Sarah said, “That seems like a pretty good reason to do something to me. ’Cause you loved somebody.”
    Kate, watching the pelican make another pass, said, “I think of him as something of an artist. Those flies he makes.” She took another sip. “They’re not like anybody else’s. I know that may not mean much to you, but, well, he’s got something. A vision. Something.” Kate watched a mosquito hover over her arm. She let it land and set its drill. With her fingernail she nudged the mosquito back into flight.
    She said, “I’m just full of jabber today. Sound like a proud mama. It’s this rum. You made these too strong again.”
    Sarah said, “So, tell me.” She settled back into her chair. “Thorn says there aren’t any other women in his life. I find that hard to believe.”
    “Oh, my,” Kate said. “This is serious.”

3
    S ARAH WAS WEARING one of Thorn’s T-shirts, a long gray one that came to her thighs. She had pulled a loaf of rye bread out of his refrigerator, put it under her arm, and was still poking around in there. She tore off a handful of grapes and popped them one by one into her mouth. While she chewed, she let the refrigerator door shut, opened the bread, and took out the top slices.
    Thorn watched her, liking it all, liking her in that shirt, her hunger, the way her hair had not recovered from their lovemaking. Her skin, chapped by the sun. Most of all, he liked the way she seemed to be at home here in his one-room house.
    “You don’t have a toaster?” She didn’t look back at him but seemed to know he was watching, seemed to bask in it.
    “I’m not much of a toast eater.”
    “I guess not.” Sarah fiddled with the dial for the oven.
    “Oven doesn’t work either,” Thorn said. “Just the back left burner.”
    “How quaint.”
    Thorn propped himself up on his elbows to give her a look. She smiled over at him, a somewhat drowsy one. In the fluttering light from the two hurricane lanterns her skin seemed coppery. A trick of light, for her skin was pearl white. A refreshing change for Thorn, even slightly exotic in this land of tans. He liked to watch his sunburned hands move across her white flesh. An eerie arousal.
    Thorn asked, “How many burners do you have?”
    “Four,” she said. “And all of them work.”
    “Yeah, I can vouch.”
    “No, you can’t, Thorn. Don’t get carried away with yourself.”
    He let it pass. No reason to square off. Maybe she was right; they were cooking on less than maximum heat. Still, it was hotter than anything Thorn had ever known.
    He said, “You are free in direct proportion to the number of burners you can do without.”
    “Well, if you want women to keep making house calls, you’re going to have to upgrade your appliances.”
    “I thought you-all came for the view.” Thorn rolled out of bed, came across to her.
    A skeptical tilt of head, she said, “Withered, shriveled view that it is.”
    “It has its moments,” said Thorn as he reached out and pulled her into an embrace, his skin still damp.
    “Hmmmm.” She hugged him hard, cartilage in his spine popping.
    “Want to smoke another one?” He spoke into her shoulder, pressing his thigh into the subtle parting of her legs.
    Stepping out of the embrace, she said, “I don’t like people who smoke dope anymore.”
    “Me either,” Thorn said. “But you couldn’t call what we do smoking dope. Not exactly.”
    Sarah said, “I only smoke it with you. I thought you liked it.”
    “I like it OK. Take it or leave it. I thought you liked it,” Thorn said. “Till you showed up, I hadn’t smoked any for years. I still got a half a lid from 1978.”
    They