Anna Pigeon 11 Flashback by Nevada Barr

Author:Nevada Barr [Barr, Nevada]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Fort Jefferson (Fla.), Dry Tortugas National Park (Fla.)
ISBN: 9780425194492
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2004-02-03T08:00:00+00:00

"Wilcox."

"Wilcox from her husband's way without feeling guilty about it. It fits in with the nursing, too. Unless she's got that Angel of Death thing going on, she probably views herself as a healer, a caretaker. Using a non-lethal drug might tie into that."

"Works for me," Anna said. Hearing his rationale given in deep, strong tones with roots deep in the Mississippi clay made her feel calmer, saner. The thoughts he expressed dovetailed with those she had had in her skittery drug-paranoid fashion. It was infinitely comforting to know her mind not only worked but had done so under duress.

"Do you dive? How about that engine on the coral moving?" Asking the question, it occurred to her that, though she'd known Paul for a year or so, there was a great deal about him she was not yet privy to. They'd met and courted under unusual circumstances, what with dead men and living wives underfoot. Even realizing this, she did not change her mind about matrimony. "Do you know anything about scuba diving?" she amended her question.

"Not as much as you do," he replied. "But I've had a whiff of high school physics and I've lifted more than my share of engines in and out of secondhand pickup trucks. If that motor was seated as solidly as you say it was then it didn't shift because you put your tiny little self underneath and wriggled about a bit."

"I braced the heel of my hand on it when I was copying down the serial number," Anna confessed.

Paul laughed. "Even given the strength of your good right arm, I don't think you could have shifted that thing. Either it was already unseated or somebody moved it."

Anna had known that. Of the various neuroses, the one she most lusted after was the one she could never quite attain: denial. Always, just when she thought she had a handle on it, a pesky fact or puzzling anomaly would punch a hole in the dike and reality would pour in.

Of course she'd checked the seating of the motor on its coral bed. Having no desire to be trapped-or crushed-beneath the engine, she had pushed and shoved and peeked at its edges to confirm it had reached its final resting place. Without that reassurance, she could never have tricked her claustrophobic self into slithering into the crevice beneath it.

Then it had shifted and caught her, nearly killed her.

Ergo someone or something or some event had caused it to move.

It was at this point that logic ceased to work and the practice of denial would have come in handy. Who or what could have moved the engine? The obvious choice was Mack. As the only other creature with opposable thumbs within a hundred-foot radius, he was at the top of the suspect list. With a pry bar and a working knowledge of levers and fulcrums, he could have managed it. Why he would want to was an open question, but Anna had always considered herself a pleasant enough person and relatively harmless.

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