Cold Flat Junction by Martha Grimes

Author:Martha Grimes [Grimes, Martha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Young Adult, Thriller
ISBN: 9781101175132
Google: M6LGmFHZEA4C
Amazon: 0451205235
Barnesnoble: 0451205235
Goodreads: 102479
Publisher: Viking
Published: 1999-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

33

End of the pier

Maud’s house was really nice; it looked just like where Maud would live. It was a cottage, small and unfussy, and it backed onto Lake Noir, which was huge, black, and gleaming with the moon’s reflection. Some time ago I’d heard this name was not the lake’s real name, that some show-offy summer people had renamed it “Noir,” and that hardly anyone could pronounce it right (“hardly anyone” being the uneducated people who lived here full time). Most people called it “Nor.” Ree-Jane, naturally, went to great pains to give the word its French pronunciation. Mrs. Davidow tried to and sometimes did and sometimes didn’t. My mother pronounced it correctly, as she felt it was a mark of “good breeding” to do so. I called it “Black Lake” because this really irritated Ree-Jane.

In the car, Dwayne had said that he’d get out at Maud’s and walk from there, that the walk wasn’t very far. Probably, he didn’t want the Sheriff to see all the dead rabbits. But when we got to Maud’s place, we all got out: that is, the Sheriff got out when the other two did, and when I saw that, of course I got out too. This surprised me, as we were to go back to La Porte after dropping them off.

Maud started down the sloping lawn and called back that we should all go down to the pier and that she’d bring us out something to drink. Apparently, we were really going to make a night of it. Being included in this made me feel very adult.

The Sheriff was the only one of us who had actually been out on the pier, though I remembered seeing it from a distance when driving to the lake with Mrs. Davidow. From what Dwayne said about the pier and the view, I could tell he’d never been here before. Maud went inside and we followed the Sheriff. I heard him mumble something about the “damned pier.” He seemed not to be in a very good mood.

I thought the pier was wonderful. It was a little rickety, smelled of damp cedar or pine (I do not really know my woods), and stretched out into the lake. Most docks are kind of stubby, but this one sort of meandered out for forty or fifty feet. At the end of it, there was the rocking chair, table, and floor lamp.

“It’s like an outdoor living room,” I said.

“One of these days that damned lamp’s going right over,” said the Sheriff.

“Great for reading,” said Dwayne, looking seriously as if he wished he’d brought Billy Faulkner along.

Maud came out with a tray rattling with beer bottles and glasses. For me I knew there’d be a Coke, which there was. Maud set the tray on the little table and handed the beer around.

The Sheriff said, “You got a half dozen extension cords running up to that house and some day you’re going to set the place on fire if you don’t electrocute yourself first.

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