Aim for the Heart by Ridley Pearson

Author:Ridley Pearson [Pearson, Ridley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7953-4647-7
Publisher: RosettaBooks
Published: 1990-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Candy McGreggor lived in Woodside, a housing development on the southeastern fringe of Butte Peak, not far from her sister’s duplex. It was a somewhat congested, mixed development, part condo, part single-family residence, just north of the sewer treatment plant and just south of an indoor tennis facility. A squadron of kids on bikes with banana seats raced past my truck. One about eight years old jerked his bike into a wheelie and led the pack up a bike path that weaved through the surrounding fields of sage and waxwood balsam. Two dogs followed the kids, barking nearly in unison.

Derby, who had insisted on joining me in the cab of my pickup, started to bark back but stopped as I turned to scold her. She jumped across my lap and threw her head out the window, blocking my vision. I ordered her to sit, pushing her back and nearly driving off the road.

I left Derby in the cab. Candy’s house, a rental, no doubt, had a For Sale sign on the front lawn. I climbed the concrete front steps and rang a glowing door bell.

“Come in!” she hollered.

The small living room was clean and simple. I could smell chocolate chip cookies baking. She offered me a beer, but I declined. The furniture in the room was arranged around the television and stereo. The VCR looked well used.

Candy wore tight faded blue jeans, no belt, no shoes, and a two-tone blue T-shirt that read CLOSE FLAP BEFORE STRIKING. She turned around and I read DIAMOND—A GIRL’S BEST FRIEND, with a blowup of a strike-anywhere match. She must have used a shoe horn to get herself into the jeans. I sat at the kitchen table while she made some coffee. The Twin Falls Times-News was open to Dear Abby.

She had no pretense whatsoever. I felt as if I had been living with her for a couple of years. She was the quintessential opposite of Alicia Gebhardt, flawed, but not without redeeming assets. It occurred to me then, as it had so often lately, that I was repeatedly attracted to the wrong kind of woman. Candy would be loyal, funny, considerate, and, I had a hunch, somewhat wild in bed. Everything I was looking for. I had a feeling that after a week or so I wouldn’t see the misuse of makeup, wouldn’t hear the abuse of the language. All I would need was a La-Z-Boy recliner and a Rotary membership.

“So, what’s up?” she asked, filling the Mr. Coffee with cold water.

“You did a great job on my house.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. The flowers were a nice touch.”

“A man shouldn’t live alone. A man don’t know anything about keeping up a place, making it liveable.”

It sounded like an invitation. I sat there for a while, enjoying the peace of the place. She had created a home here; it felt right.

“Something occurred to me,” I said. “About Bert. What about her job?”

She nodded, putting a plate of the freshly baked cookies on the table. “You’re thinking she stumbled across something at City Hall.

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