In The Forest Of Harm Read Online Free

then I’m outta there and you and Perry are out five grand.”
    â€œNot a problem,” Whitman said as he slid out from the booth and stood up. Delgado saw that his thighs were thick as small trees, and that he looked over the diner as if assessing how much firepower he would need to turn the whole place into a pile of greasy, smoking rubble.
    â€œSaturday morning, kid. Then we’re history.”
    Delgado watched as Whitman walked out into the night, the neon lights of the diner making the back of his neck glow a sick shade of green. He hopped into his car, the Porsche’s lights came on, and Mitchell Whitman roared off, tires squealing against tarmac.
    â€œJesus.” Delgado shook his head. “If that kid’s engineering the future, then we’re all fucked.”

THREE
    Good grief, Alex. We’re spending two nights in the Nantahala National Forest, not scaling K-2.”
    Mary stood in the parking lot of her condo, skeptically eyeing the contents of Alex’s red BMW. The bright October sun sparkled off the open trunk, revealing a bulging teal backpack crunched in between a folded tent, a giant cooler of food, and a gas stove that looked like an early Russian space satellite.
    Alex pushed the tent to one side. “Charlie had all this stuff and insisted we take it. I couldn’t turn him down. He even packed us a lunch.”
    Mary set her backpack down on the bumper. “Charlie had all this fancy gear?” Charlie Carter, a lanky, gregarious veterinarian who had hiked most of the Appalachian Trail in a pair of worn-out Keds, was Alex’s boyfriend. They’d met the morning she’d brought her dog Daisy in to be spayed, and by the time Daisy’s stitches had healed, Charlie and Alex were officially a couple. Since Alex had always tried to rehabilitate every hurt and abandoned animal she saw, Mary thought Charlie a perfect choice for her friend. She’d never seen Alex happier with a man.
    Alex rearranged the stove. “He bought this stuff to do Bryce Canyon with his old girlfriend, but she got the cramps and couldn’t go.”
    â€œHadn’t she heard of Midol?”
    Alex squinted one eye. “I think they had some other issues.” The ends of her blonde hair brushed against the collar of an orange safety jacket she was wearing over her favorite red plaid shirt. “Anyway, he even bought us three of these jackets, just so we wouldn’t get shot by deer hunters.”
    â€œGreater love hath no man than to buy his honey a safety vest.” Mary didn’t have the heart to tell Alex that they would be hiking far too high in the mountains to even see a deer, much less a deer hunter. “What’s Charlie going to do while you’re gone?”
    â€œHe’s giving a paper next week at a veterinarian convention in Toronto.” Alex laughed. “ ‘New Advances in Flea Control.’ Charlie’s a major player in fleas.”
    Mary smiled, concealing a small pang of loneliness as they shoved her backpack in the trunk. It had been a long time since she’d had a man willing to buy her a safety vest and pack her a nice lunch. Most of her lovers spooked quickly—unnerved by the grisly evidence files stacked on her dining room table or saddened by the small shrine of family photographs on her bedroom dresser. Rob Williams, the last man she’d been serious about, had voiced it perfectly when he kissed her between her breasts and murmured, “Sorry, babe. That broken heart just doesn’t have enough room in it for me.”
    Alex peeled off her Day-Glo vest and tossed it in on top of the camp stove, then she saw the small metal tool-box Mary held in her hand. “Hey, isn’t that your old paint box from college?”
    Mary nodded. “I thought I might do some sketching.”
    She balanced the box on the fender of Alex’s car and snapped open the lid. Inside was a neat array of pencils, a palette