Bones 19 - The Bone Collection by Kathy Reichs

Author:Kathy Reichs [Reichs, Kathy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Sunday began with a white furry paw batting my nose. Birdie wanted breakfast. After a few ineffective elbow shoves, I gave up and hauled myself out of bed. Sleep hath no enemy like an unrelenting cat.

Bird’s penance was to dine solo. I took my bagel and coffee outside to the patio, ignoring a voicemail I knew to be from Ryan. Face buried in kibble, the cat bore the slight with aplomb. Or didn’t notice.

Around me, azaleas winked pink and white among the waxy green leaves of bushes planted years before I moved into Sharon Hall. The air was rich with the scent of spores and pollen, with the promise of life and allergies about to burst forth. Over the wall, a lone church bell called out to the faithful.

The sky was unblemished, the sun soft and warm on my shoulders and hair. It was a morning for hiking or biking, for gardening or reading a novel on a lounger. Not for mummified corpses and icy death.

The buzz of my mobile interrupted my thoughts. I answered and clicked off the ringtone silencer in one move.

“You missed a good time last night.” Anne and I had been invited to a dinner party at the home of a mutual friend. She’d gone, I’d bailed. After meeting with Blythe Hallis, I’d been too bummed.

“But I’m enjoying a great morning.” Garbled by cream cheese and dough.

“What are you eating?”

“Bagel.”

“How’s the corpsicle?” Never subtle, and not totally sober, Anne had phoned the previous evening demanding the whole story. Naming no names, I’d given her the bare bones.

“Frostier than a Greco-German economy summit,” I said.

“Good one.” Anne and I liked making up outlandish similes. It was a game we played.

“Strained,” I said.

“A bit.”

For a moment, empty air hummed across the line. I took another bite of bagel. Coffee. Anne spoke first.

“My view? Jumping out of planes or scrabbling up precipices is batshit crazy.”

Amen to that.

“It’s still sad,” I said. “Life shouldn’t end at twenty-four. But I agree. I don’t see the point of deliberately endangering yourself for a rush. Hang gliding. Crocodile bungeeing. BASE jumping. Ice climbing.”

“Buying sushi from a street vendor in Tijuana.”

“Why do it?”

“Costs less.”

“I mean extreme sport.” Eyes rolling. Which she couldn’t see.

“The thrill of the chase? The chase of the thrill?”

“More like a subliminal death wish. Did you know that the odds of dying in a random accident are three percent? The odds of dying on Everest are more than double that. This kid had everything. Now she’s lying in a cooler with a tag on her toe.” Close enough.

“Aren’t you being a teeny bit hypocritical?” Anne needled.

“What?”

“You’re always all clappety-clap for women who put it all out there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Amelia Earhart? Sally Ride? Diana Nyad?”

“That’s totally different.”

“Is it?”

The conversational twists and turns were making me dizzy. An effect not uncommon when talking to Anne. I switched tack.

“The mother claims all the daredevil antics were for Daddy’s approval.”

“Well blow me down. Do I hear shades of connection to young Tempe and her elusive mother?”

“Why is it you called again?” Mock annoyed.

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