Here Lies a Wicked Man: A Booker Krane Mystery (The Booker Krane Series Book 1) by Chris Rogers

Author:Chris Rogers [Rogers, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

“Booker, why are you reading this?” Littlehawk tossed Archery Basics on the grass. “Here I am, an expert at your service.”

With two hours to kill until his date with Roxanna, Booker knew he had to keep busy. Otherwise, he’d worry himself ragged, worry about making a fool of himself tonight, worry about Bradley. Quitter. The word ricocheted in his mind like a wayward arrow. He’d never realized how much he enjoyed being his son’s hero until he lost that status.

He’d hoped to find the Lakeside archery range empty so he could kill time and make mistakes without anyone watching. No such luck.

“You teach archery?” he asked Littlehawk, strapping on the leather arm guard.

“I am not half Choctaw for nothing, Booker. I am not half Blackfoot for nothing.”

Littlehawk could prove the Choctaw part. Booker had seen his genealogy posted near the restaurant’s bulletin board alongside the Native American status notification allowing government grants to help finance the Caribou Club. His Blackfoot heritage was more likely American melting pot, but that didn’t make as good a story. The only thing Littlehawk loved more than a good story was cash.

“What’s it going to cost me for a lesson?”

“Cost? You insult me. I offer to teach you, and you insult me. I’m hurt.”

“All right, I’m sorry. Look—”

“Booker Krane!” Emaline’s shout preceded her across the field. “What the devil are you up to?”

Headed toward the archery range, she picked her way among sunbathers around the club swimming pool. Meanwhile, Littlehawk corrected Booker’s stance and showed him how to mark a nocking point on his bowstring. Maybe he could use a few lessons, after all.

Booker nocked an arrow, the cock feather, in this case an off-colored plastic vane, at right angles to the notch as he’d learned from Spiner. He drew the string back.

“Sure-sure, that’s good. Now we mark an anchor, a spot where the hand points each time you shoot.”

Using Booker’s bow, Littlehawk showed where his third finger touched his chin at full draw. The bow was too long for the smaller man, but Booker got the idea. He tried it.

“Let your inner spirit guide you,” Littlehawk said.

Booker worked at it as Emaline finally approached.

“If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Is that the ticket, Booker? Figured I’d be old and gray before I saw you take up shooting.”

“You are already old and gray,” Littlehawk said.

“That’s beside the point. What possessed him to do this?”

“That is not our business. Am I right, Booker? If he wants to shoot, he has found the right teacher.”

Emaline hooted. “Booker Krane, you can’t listen to this guy. Neptune conjunct Mercury in his third house. Nobody can tell a bigger lie or get you more confused.”

Booker muttered a neutral grunt. He did not want to land in one of their sparring matches, which seemed to occur any time they came within ten feet of each other.

Littlehawk nudged him. “Even the loudest foghorn doesn’t clear the fog. Am I right?”

Booker had to swallow a chuckle at that one.

“Pete,” Emaline huffed, “you remind me of a toothache I once had.

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