Mourning Shift by Kathleen Taylor

Author:Kathleen Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder, mystery, murder mystery, female detective, killer, whodunnit, humourous, tory bauer mystery
Publisher: Kathleen Taylor

20. Contact Sports

I was gone the day they handed out the desire to trade broken knuckles for the privilege of smacking someone in the snotbox. Not only do I lack the gene that encourages participation in fisticuffs, I don't even want to watch anyone inflict damage on anyone else, one blow at a time. In that, I am evidently in the minority.

You don't have to be a scholar or a historian, or even a fan of Joyce Carol Oates, to realize that people have always enjoyed a good knock-down, drag-out fight. If they can't be in the middle, experiencing the rush that comes from beating the shit out of another human being, the spectators at least share the vicarious thrill of cheering for, and identifying with, the victor.

And it's not just the winners who feel that surge of power, a cleansing energy, in the post-combat glow. Even the losers seem to possess a beatific smile, beamed through missing teeth, their eyes shining through lids nearly puffed shut.

Seeing neither poetry nor beauty in hand-to-hand combat, and based entirely on several reluctant observations and no real-life experience at all, I had come to the conclusion that fighting was both stupid and painful.

I was now in the unfortunate position of knowing that I was absolutely right.

Not that I had been an actual participant in the altercation. My contribution had been to utter a short cry of surprise and a small "oof" as I hit the ground.

I came to almost immediately. The crowd seemed to have rematerialized around me as I lay in the street. Slightly wary of recurring hallucinations, I peeked through one squinted eye just to make sure that Aphrodite and Nick weren't standing over me again. Neither was to be seen, though for a second the smell of cigarette smoke convinced me that Aphrodite might be nearby, until I focused enough to realize that (1) I was being silly, and (2) Del was smoking.

Though it had at first seemed like hundreds of people, only Neil, Stu, Presley, Ron, Mardelle, and Clay Deibert hovered by anxiously.

"We really have to stop meeting like this, you know," I said wearily.

Neil laughed. "Are you all right?" He held out a hand to help me up.

"I think so," I said, standing slowly. I was a little dizzy and my head hurt like a son of a bitch. I dusted myself off, taking mental inventory of bruises and sore spots. There were plenty but none seemed serious. I was more worried about the humiliation of having been literally blindsided right in the middle of Delphi's main drag. I could hear the laughter already, as this story made the rounds.

"Where's Alanna?" I asked. She had not been among the worried hoverers.

"She stormed back into the cafe, shooed everyone out, and stuck the Closed sign in the window," Del said, lighting another cigarette. "Hasn't been seen or heard from since."

I shot a glance at the empty cafe, but could only see our reflection in the dusty window, and nothing inside.

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