Coffin Man by James D. Doss

Author:James D. Doss
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

SARAH FRANK’S ACADEMIC RESEARCH IN U.S. GRANT PARK

The aforesaid scholar was surprised to discover such tranquillity and soul-soothing peace in this charming little hideaway—and right in the center of the busy, bustling Granite Creek! The lissome young lady was seated on a comfortable bench that was quite unlike the concrete monstrosity Daisy had rested on in the cemetery. This sensuously curved construct of slender pine slats seemed custom-made to caressingly support her thighs and back. To top it all off, the girl’s large, dark eyes were treated to the sight of an oval pond where stunningly gorgeous wood ducks and haughty black swans glided effortlessly on a glassy opalescent surface. Stately weeping willows and soaring spruce on the bank seemed altogether too perfect to be real.

In this captivating environment, it is understandable that Sarah had dismissed all pedestrian thoughts. It hardly crossed her mind that Aunt Daisy was taking a walking tour of the adjacent cemetery, presumably applying her formidable psychic powers to solve a brutal murder. Also filed under “for future reference” was the university student’s assignment to interview homeless persons in a park that was reputedly a hangout for surly alcoholics, dangerous drug addicts, and just plain crazy folk.

Feeling as close as she had ever come to experiencing true peace, Sarah took a deep breath and released it in a long nostalgic sigh that hinted at a remembrance of a long-lost Paradise where her soul had once been perfectly happy, infinitely content … and would be again.

Alas, her sweet sojourn in this delightful little simulation of Eden was to be interrupted by that curse of all such moments of unadulterated bliss—the uninvited guest.

Here he comes now.

No, not that slithery serpent whose head must be bruised.

THE PASSERBY

Which, despite her assignment to do a three-thousand-word paper on Granite Creek County’s homeless folk, is what Sarah Frank ardently hoped the presumably destitute man would do. (Pass-’er-by.) The middle-aged fellow had an insane glint in his left eye, and his right orb was milky white and blind as a polished orb of marble. At first, he seemed not to notice Sarah Frank.

Which suited her just fine. Please don’t look at me!

As if he had heard her plea, his sinister eye caught a glimpse of the winsome lass on the park bench. He turned toward her slowly, his knobby knees peeking through holes in faded denim trousers. The bum wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of a corduroy jacket that had seen better days a half century ago. The left eye blinked. “Hullo.”

Sarah gazed at her hands in her lap. Oh, please go away.

The half-wit grinned. “Nice day.” He ambled up to the bench and eyed the girl’s black leather handbag. “I ain’t had a bite to eat since I found a bagel in the trash can behind the deli. Could you spare some change?”

“I’m sorry.” Sarah had a twenty-dollar bill but not two pennies to jingle together.

The vagrant snorted and pointed at the purse. “I bet you’ve got plenty.”

Sarah glared at the pathetic figure.

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