Blind Descent (An Anna Pigeon Novel) by Nevada Barr

Author:Nevada Barr [Barr, Nevada]
Format: epub
Tags: Detective, Mystery, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Carlsbad (N.M.), Carlsbad Caverns National Park (N.M.), Mystery & Detective, American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, Fiction - Mystery, Pigeon; Anna (Fictitious character), Fiction, Women park rangers, Suspense, Women Sleuths, Mystery & Detective - Series, Mystery fiction, General, Lechuguilla Cave (N.M.)
ISBN: 9780425230633
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2009-10-06T07:00:00+00:00

A good deed actually paid off, and Anna was enjoying a mildly righteous glow of virtue's own reward. This good deed had begun as the lesser of two evils; to hang around Zeddie's and soak in the palpable pain of Frieda's mother or to make a cowardly retreat to town with the excuse of checking on Holden Tillman.

Her first choice, pursuing background information on the members of Frieda's survey team, had ended against several blank walls. Sondra wasn't answering her phone in St. Paul, and, since she was freelance, there was no place of business whose business it was to keep tabs on her whereabouts. Just for the hell of it Anna had called the St. Paul Pioneer Press. The fourth person she'd been forwarded to had actually heard of Sondra McCarty—the doctor's wife wasn't as regular a contributor as she liked people to believe—but had no inkling as to where she could be found. Anna left messages and Zeddie's phone number. As for the rest, she hadn't the foggiest idea where to begin. She doubted McCarty's medical colleagues would know much about his caving contacts. The same went for Curt's academic associates. That left Zeddie and Brent. Zeddie was a little too close to home. Staying in her house, on the heels of the disaster, with her still underground toiling to bring Frieda's body out to her mother, Anna wasn't comfortable questioning her friends. The park was too small, the mood too highly charged. As Anna's grandmother would have phrased it, she was liable to get a thick finger stirring in that pot. A little time needed to pass before she could cast her aspersions before peers.

Brent, Anna could and did get to. The man wanted to talk. She could hear the craving over the phone. Till then she'd not realized how strong the need was in her to talk it all over with someone who had been there. In a way, had the cave not been growing ever tighter and more malevolent, staying with the body recovery team would have been a comfort.

Unfortunately, when Anna reached him, Roxbury was on a cellular phone in a Jeep on BLM land adjacent to the park. His cure for the crazies had been to throw himself into his work. Their phone connection started out bad and rapidly went to worse. The last intelligible words were mutually desperate promises to get in touch.

Dead ends.

That was when, faced with an afternoon basking in Dottie Dierkz's grief, Anna had decided to hang on to the borrowed sedan a few more hours and call on the Tillmans. She didn't phone ahead for the obvious reason that she didn't want to be told not to come and thus have an honorable avenue of escape denied her.

Holden and his wife lived in a modest house on the outskirts of the town of Carlsbad. Outbuildings, a requisite in the West, cluttered the lot beside and behind the house: an old garage with a door that wouldn't close, two

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