Partnerships Can Kill: The Third Charlie Parker Mystery Read Online Free Page A

my
answering machine. It must have rung while I was outside or in the
shower.
    “Hi, Charlie,” Drake’s deep voice came
through. “Sorry I missed you . . . Been thinking about you
constantly . . . uh, I guess I’ll have to call back later. I have
an association meeting to go to now. But then you’ll probably be
asleep . . .Well, I’ll just try over the weekend. ’Bye.”
    A pang of longing shot through me. Maybe I
should cancel the weekend plans with Ron and Vicky.
    Wait a minute. I stopped myself. No
way was I going to fall into that sitting-by-the-phone trap, that
molding-my-life-to-fit-his routine. If anything were to develop
between Drake Langston and me, it would have to come about
naturally. And I would not lose sleep over making it happen. I
tossed my packed duffle onto the floor, turned out the lights, and
lay in bed with my eyes wide open until after one a.m.

    Chapter 4

    The condo was situated near the base of the
Angel Fire ski area. This time of year, ours was the only car in
the parking lot. Rusty and I shared the downstairs bedroom. That
and a small bathroom comprised the entire lower floor. The view
from my window showed the side of the Jeep, not much more. I
clipped a leash to Rusty's collar, and we left to explore. Ron and
Vicky could unpack and get started with whatever else they had
planned for the weekend. I didn't especially want to be around for
that.
    Outside, the sky was a deep blue. Tall
ponderosa pines cast dappled shadows across the ground. A brisk
wind came up the road, making the air at least fifteen degrees
cooler here than in the city. I was glad I'd brought a light jacket
along with the sweaters.
    We walked uphill, toward the unmoving ski
lift. No one else in sight. Rusty tugged constantly at the leash,
so I finally gave up and unclipped it. He wouldn't go far, he just
wanted the freedom to go at his own pace. He stayed with me,
trotting within a few yards, wherever I walked.
    Dried pine needles crunched under our feet.
The air was crisp, free of the car exhaust and fast food smells
associated with the city. I breathed deeply, absorbing all the
oxygen I could, like a drug.
    An hour later, puffing slightly from the
altitude, we re-entered the condo. Vicky sat on the living room
sofa, her eyes and hands intent on a video game connected to the TV
set. She had changed from the stretch pants and halter top she had
worn for the trip. Now she wore an oversize T-shirt and a pair of
red socks. Her tan legs were bare. Ron was barefoot in the kitchen,
putting food away in the refrigerator. Their bedroom door stood
open, revealing rumpled bedding and clothing carelessly tossed on
the floor. Suddenly I longed for Drake. I didn't want to make idle
chit-chat with these two.
    There was a small deck off the living room
with several white plastic chairs on it. I picked up the Tom Clancy
novel that I hadn't quite finished in Hawaii, and took it out to
the deck. The deedle-deedle music from Vicky's video game
disappeared when I closed the glass door.
    I found myself thinking about Drake Langston
more than I intended to. I wanted to tell myself that it was a
vacation fling, but I'm not given to flings, so that idea went
against my grain.
    By five o’clock the sun was low over the
western hills, the tall pines casting cool shadows my way. I slid
the glass door open. Video characters bounced across the TV screen.
Ron dozed on the sofa, the sports section of the Albuquerque paper
draped across his chest.
    “I think I’ll start some dinner,” I
suggested.
    Neither of them replied. I walked between
Vicky and the television without breaking her concentration.
Rummaging through our provisions, I came up with a frozen lasagna,
which I popped into the oven. Dumped pre-cut salad greens into a
bowl. The condo came equipped with plenty of dishes and utensils so
I set the table and located a candle for the center. Ron roused at
the sound of all the clinking and helped put the finishing touches
on the salad. We