Shriver Read Online Free Page B

trying to grab the leather handle, but she pulled the bag away and started out of the terminal. For a small woman, Shriver thought, she was remarkably strong. While the other passengers at the luggage carousel stared at him with disapproving expressions, he followed her outside, where she lugged the suitcase across the small parking lot to a massive car, a three-ton contraption of black metal and man-made materials. She opened the rear door and, with a grunt, heaved the suitcase onto the seat.
    â€œClimb aboard,” she ordered.
    Shriver pulled himself up into the passenger seat as if into a tank.
    The professor turned the key and the engine growled to life. With some effort she shifted gears and aimed the monstrous vehicle toward the parking lot exit. She looked like a child in her yellow slicker, her tiny hands astride the colossal steering wheel. She had to scoot herself forward in order for her feet to reach the pedals. The car’s hood was so enormous that if a grown man walked directly in front of the vehicle, he would not be seen.
    â€œNormally we have graduate students pick up the featuredauthors at the airport, but your handler is teaching at this hour, so I took the job myself.” She watched the road as she spoke, not turning at all to address him.
    â€œI feel honored, Professor.”
    â€œIt’s very inconvenient, actually. I have so much to do.”
    â€œI’m so sorry.”
    After a pause, she said, “To be honest, I was curious.”
    â€œCurious?”
    â€œTo meet the infamous Shriver.”
    â€œOh? I didn’t realize I was infamous.”
    She let out a sharp laugh. “Have you read your book lately?”
    â€œI can’t say that I have.”
    â€œI read it in graduate school,” she told him, as if recounting the time she ate a spoiled piece of meat. “I almost got through the whole thing.”
    They passed a paddock populated by enormous, shaggy bison. A wooden sign, lettered in the style of an Old West ranch, proclaimed EAT BISON—LIVE WELL!
    â€œBut everyone’s very excited that you’re able to attend the conference,” Professor Cleverly said, straining to sound positive. “This is quite a coup for us.”
    Shriver watched her profile as she drove: slightly crooked nose, strong jaw, skin tan and smooth but not pampered looking. Apparently, she spent a lot of time outdoors. The yellow slicker remained buttoned. She could have been naked underneath there for all Shriver knew. He blushed at the thought, and just then she turned to glance at him. He looked away toward a field of sunflowers stretching off into the distance.
    â€œEver been out this way?” she asked.
    â€œOnly to pass through. On a military train. All I can remember are the sunflowers.”
    Shriver was surprised that he remembered this. He hadn’t thought about it in years. The train had been headed west, farther and farther away from home. He smiled, recalling the image, exactly like this one. “Millions of yellow-bonneted faces all turned to worship the sun,” he said.
    Professor Cleverly nodded, as if she’d expected him to say exactly that.
    â€œThe college is famous for its botany department,” she said. “Did you know Native Americans used the oil for snake bites and wart removal?”
    â€œI did not.”
    â€œBetween the flowers, the seeds, and the oil, there are lots of uses for Helianthus annuus .”
    Her voice sounded a little tight, he thought—the voice of someone trying to impress. He wondered what the real Shriver would say right now. Probably something erudite about agriculture, but he felt it was better at this point to keep his mouth shut. So far she had not suspected him of any fraudulence, and he didn’t want to push his luck.
    â€œWe’ll swing by the hotel first,” she said, “so you can drop off your bag and freshen up a little. Then I’ll take you over to the College