The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult; Carol Monda

Author:Jodi Picoult; Carol Monda
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Literary, Strips, Rape Victims, Family Life, General, Fathers and daughters, Etc, Psychological, Comic Books, Fiction, Date Rape
ISBN: 9781419371721
Publisher: Recorded Books
Published: 2006-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

Ill get it, Trixie said as the girl headed for the restroom with Trevor. She started jamming items back into the diaper bag: plastic keys that played a Disney song, an orange, a four-pack of crayons. A tampon with the wrapper half off, a hair scrunchie. Something that might, at one time, have been a cookie. A wallet.

Trixie hesitated. She told herself she was only going to peek at the girls name, because she didnt want to ask and run the risk of striking up a conversation.

A Vermont drivers license looked nothing like one from Maine. In the first place, there wasnt a photograph. The one time Zephyr had convinced Trixie to go to a bar, shed used a Vermont license as fake ID. Five foot six is close enough, Zephyr said, although Trixie was four inches shorter. Brown eyes, it read, when she had blue.

Fawn Abernathy lived at 34 First Street in Shelburne, Vermont. She was nineteen years old. She was the same exact height as Trixie, and Trixie took that as an omen.

She left Fawn her ATM card and half of the cash. But she slipped the American Express card and the license into her pocket. Then Trixie hurried out of the Vermont Transit Bus terminal and threw

herself into the first cab at the side of the curb. Where to? the

driver asked.

Trixie looked out the window. The airport, she said.

I wouldnt be asking if it wasnt an emergency, Bartholemew begged. He glanced around Venice Prudhommes office, piled high with files and computer printouts and transcripts from court testimony.

She sighed, not bothering to look up from her microscope. Mike, for you, its always an emergency.

Please. Ive got a hair with a root on it that was found on the dead kids body, and I have Trixies blood preserved all nice and neat in her rape kit. If the DNA matches, thats all I need to get a warrant for her arrest.

No, Venice said.

I know youve got a backlog and . . .

Thats not why, she interrupted, glancing at Bartholemew. Theres no way Im opening up a sealed rape kit.

Why? Trixie Stone consented to having her blood drawn for it already.

As a victim, Venice pointed out. Not to prove she committed a crime.

Youve got to stop watching Law and Order.

Maybe you ought to start.

Bartholemew scowled. I cant believe youre doing this.

Im not doing anything, Venice said, bending over her scope again. At least not until a judge says so.

Summer on the tundra was dreamlike. Since the sun stayed out until two A.M., people didnt sleep much in Akiak. Kids would cluster around bootleg booze and weed if they could get it, or leave behind the skins of their candy bars and spilled cans of pop if they couldnt. Younger children splashed in the foggy green water of the Kuskokwim, even though by August they would still lose feeling in their ankles after only a few moments of submersion. Every year, in one of the Yupik villages, someone would drown; it was too cold for anyone to stay in the water long enough to learn how to swim.

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