Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island Read Online Free Page A

down to Victoria with Mum and Dad and me when I drove Dad to his treatment last week. Alana and Mum shopped while Dad and I went to the clinic.”
    Over the past month Noel had been driving his father to Victoria for prostate cancer treatment. Over that time she’d taken on a couple of small cases for Triple I, one on Lummi Island, one on Mercer—not much of an island, it had two bridges. Minor problems, low fees. Bad in two ways—reducing the balance in her bank account, giving her lots of time to worry. Now she thought, Noel can run the business while I have a baby. She breathed deeply against a wave of nausea. “And how is your dad?”
    â€œWell, they say the treatment’s working.”
    â€œAnd your mum?”
    â€œIt’s been hard on her. And she can’t do highway driving because of her eyes, and Dad can’t drive with the chemo.”
    Driving. They both looked out the window at the road, the cars and trucks whizzing by, a July-blue sky, black sheep and white sheep in the browning green fields. Kyra pressed a switch and her window descended. Real difference in outside color, the tinted windows easier on the eyes but distorting too. Warm scented air blew in.
    â€œMy parents are delighted you’ll be there for brunch.” Noel said.
    â€œI haven’t seen them in ages. And I haven’t seen Alana since she was about six.”
    â€œThey don’t come up much.” Idle chat. The elephant, taking up a lot of room.
    â€œHow far is Qualicum?”
    â€œOh, thirty minutes.”
    â€œI have to pee. Pretty immediately.”
    They were passing Nanoose Bay. With the tide out, the mudflats were ripe. “Hang on,” Noel said. “There’s a gas station at the stoplight.”
    Kyra did not like Pregnant having such control of her bladder. She tightened muscles. Goddamnittohell.
    Of course the stoplight was red. Kyra tightened more muscles. Noel whirred into the gas station. She got out, walked swiftly, collected the restroom key, peed with relief, returned the key. Satisfied. “Thank you.”
    Noel wondered if needing to pee abruptly grew from pregnancy or anxiety. The elephant in back was momentarily asleep.
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    Tim Cooper enjoyed working their woodlot, and being with his father was great. But did they have to decide today what to take out in the fall? And parts of the southern lot, over 386 hectares, hadn’t been checked on in a year. They should walk the land, see what had happened, before making any firm decisions. But not this morning.
    His mind kept wandering from their fir, maple and cedar, heading in only one direction: over Discovery Passage to Campbell River, up to the hospital, to the bed his brother lay in. Derek hadn’t moved in three weeks. Would he ever move again? Those were the issues of the moment, not a bunch of trees. His dad was planning on the noon ferry, still a couple of hours away. His mother, in the same hospital as Derek, wouldn’t be at his side, but wherever a nurse was needed. Though she couldn’t do much for Derek right now. But Derek needed someone with him. Someone other than Cindy. Cindy was—oh, okay, and she did care for Derek but she wasn’t family. Tim had read that people in comas can maybe hear what’s being said or feel someone’s hand, they just can’t react or talk back. If he had his driver’s license, he’d take Derek’s truck and be there right now. But that had to wait eleven months. What’s going to happen to Derek before next year? He glanced at his watch again—
    â€œHey, Timmy! Come look at this!”
    He jogged ahead and spotted his father bending over, staring at the ground. “What’s up?”
    â€œHere.” Jason Cooper pointed a little way into the woods at a heap of earth nearly five feet high. It seemed to be moving. “And here,” he gestured down to their feet.
    â€œWow.”