Wild Sorrow Read Online Free Page B

You couldn’t let it get to you, or you wouldn’t last—you were no good to anyone. I wasn’t as adept at this as my friend. I’d seen plenty of death—more than my share. I never got used to it.
    We’d walked out a few hundred yards to a flat place on the mesa, near where Diane had left her ATV when she arrived. We cleared some brush to make a heliport, then tied several long lengths of yellow Crime Scene tape to the ATV, which Diane parked on the perimeter on the west side. The lutescent tape fluttered in the morning breeze, creating a marker for the pilot as well as a gauge for wind speed and direction.
    â€œThe Silver Bullet could sure give my career a boost,” Di said as we worked. “I’ve been stuck here in Taos without any opportunity for advancement for three years now.”
    â€œWhat can this guy do? Can he get you a promotion?”
    â€œHe’s got long coattails. Everyone who works with him moves up. I could get out of here and get someplace civilized.” She tossed a stone away into the brush. “Look at my hair,” she said, coming toward me. “Look at this side here.” She pointed to the place in front of her left ear. “I had to cut that way back because it was burned. And check out my eyebrows. They’re singed, too.”
    I inspected her face. “What happened?”
    â€œMy oven blew up on me. I told that worthless landlord it wasn’t working right, and he had some creepy cousin of his named Benny come out to fix it. But all he did was ogle me and fool around with the stove like he knew what he was doing, which he didn’t. The next time I went to use the oven, I opened the door, and flames shot out.”
    â€œWow. You’re lucky you didn’t get burned.”
    â€œThat’s just one example of how it has been for months now. I leased from this guy, I paid him first and last month’s rent and a deposit, and I’ve had nothing but trouble with him. The fridge either freezes all my food, or everything spoils. And the front door won’t even shut properly. I’ve come home and found it standing open. I have to slam it so hard just to get the darn thing to stay closed that the front window rattles in the frame. And this guy has said he’ll evict me if I make any more complaints. He doesn’t care if I’m happy, there’s a long list of poor schmucks who will give him a deposit and first and last month’s rent, and he triples his money every time he gets a new renter.”
    â€œIsn’t there an agency that regulates . . .”
    â€œI’ve checked. It’s hard to enforce tenant rights in New Mexico. I read the statutes, and they are nine-tenths about the right to evict. The only thing I could do would be to take the guy to court.”
    â€œMaybe there’s a better place to rent while you figure all this out.”
    â€œNah, I’ve looked. There’s not much out there, unless I want to live in a trailer. And I can’t afford one of those new condos. But it’s not just the rental situation. Taos is the only third-world country in the United States.”
    I was quiet. The thing I loved about Taos was how time seemed to stand still, how the past refused to give in to the present and held steadfast to ancient customs and rich cultural distinctions. Taos was timeless, and fiercely so.
    Diane’s sat phone rang. “Give me that lat and long,” she said to me, nodding toward the small yellow GPS we’d used to calculate our exact location.
    I read the coordinates to her. Within minutes, we could hear the hum of the chopper coming; then we saw it buzzing toward us from far away, like an oversized mosquito bearing down on its target. As soon as the wolf recognized the sound, he broke into a run, away toward the high ground near the ruin.
    I ran after him, calling to him to stop, but he scooted up the slope with his tail between his legs. I finally