Valley of the Lost Read Online Free PDF Page A

Sylvester stretched from claw to claw and stood up.
    Lucky opened the door. “If you’ll excuse me, the baby needs attention.”
    “I’m not going to drop this.” Burke’s red lips were pinched in disapproval, and spots of high color had broken out across her thin cheeks. “I’ll be back with the authorities if I have to.”
    “Mind the bump on the right side of the drive,” Lucky said. “It can rip into your undercarriage.”
    Burke stomped down the steps toward her car.
    Lucky half-turned her head back toward the kitchen. “By the way, dear,” she shouted. “Did you remember to call the police station and ask Officer Smith if she’ll be home for dinner?”
    Andy came out to the back porch and draped his arm over his wife’s shoulders as they watched Jody Burke escape down their driveway. “Don’t drag Molly into this, Lucky. You don’t want her to be a police officer, so don’t call on that position when it suits you.”
    Lucky shrugged his arm off. “The baby’s crying,” she said.
    Andy decided not to go back inside for the bag of peanuts he wanted.
    ***
    “She lived here. And you can’t tell me anything more about her?”
    Marigold, the woman called herself. “On the outside I’m merry,” she’d explained. “And inside I am gold.”
    “I can see that,” Winters said.
    “Pure gold.” She smiled, wiggling her fingers in the air. She wore a silver ring on every digit. She wasn’t overweight, but came close, dressed in a short denim skirt and loose, colorful blouse that left one shoulder bare. Her long dreadlocks, streaked blond from the sun, were stuffed into a haphazard bundle at the top of her head. She talked without looking the police officers in the eye.
    “You don’t even remember her last name?”
    Marigold shrugged. “I never knew it. The baby was cute. Miller. Nice name. He was an active baby, particularly when he wanted to be fed. Didn’t sleep much. I read somewhere that’s a sign of intelligence. Don’t know if that’s true or not. I need help with the rent, and Ashley paid up on time. The last girl who lived here? Wow. Can you say psycho?”
    Smith leaned against the wall, saying nothing. After they left Kootenay Boundary Regional Hospital in Trail, Winters asked her to accompany him to interview the girl’s roommate. He felt more comfortable, he explained, with a female officer in the room when he was questioning a young woman. The girl had given Smith a sideways glance when they arrived, and spoke only to Sergeant Winters.
    The apartment was typical of many: an older, badly-maintained downtown house broken up into apartments. Small rooms, low ceilings, a whiff of mold and cooking spices. But Marigold and Ashley had decorated with a colorful hand: bright posters on the walls, multihued afghans tossed over the sagging couches, a woven rug covering part of the stained carpet.
    The unmistakable scent of skunk mixed with coffee—marijuana—lingered around the room. Marigold had obviously been smoking pot when the police pressed the buzzer and identified themselves. Smith heard a toilet flushing before the door opened. Winters must have smelled it as well, but they weren’t here for a minor pot bust.
    “What about her mail?” he asked. “What was the name on her mail?”
    “She never got any.”
    “No bills? No offers of cheap credit?”
    “Not a thing.”
    “Do you have a job?”
    “Of course I have a job. I wait tables at The Bishop and the Nun. That’s why I didn’t mind sharing with a baby. I work nights, don’t get home ‘till three or four, usually go to bed around six. Ash gets up with Miller.” She swallowed. “I mean she got up with Miller early and they usually went out so I could sleep.” She pulled a worn tissue out of the pocket of her skirt.
    “Did Ashley have a job?”
    “She had a baby to look after.” Marigold blew her nose.
    “She have a boyfriend?”
    “Not that I knew. I mean, no one ever came round, least far as I saw. I’m