Desert Crossing

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Book: Read Desert Crossing for Free Online
Authors: Elise Broach
one hand in my T-shirt and turned away so Beth wouldn’t see my face. “Um,” I said, trying to keep my voice ordinary. “What do you mean?”
    â€œWell, from what your brother Jamie and the other boy…,” he paused, “Freder—”
    â€œKit,” I said.
    â€œRight, Kit. From what they said, none of you moved the victim.”
    â€œNo, we didn’t do anything to her,” I said quickly. “I mean, I pulled down her shirt because it was up over her stomach, but—”
    â€œThe reason I ask is that we’re not finding any ID on her. No wallet, no license, no purse or other kind of personal effects. It’s—well, it’s unusual, and it’s going to make our job a lot harder. I wondered if you or the boys might have picked something up at the scene. Something that belonged to the victim.” He hesitated. “I understand you were pretty upset, and maybe you didn’t realize…” He was waiting for me to say something.
    But I couldn’t do it. He wasn’t looking for a bracelet, anyway. He was looking for something with her name on it. The bracelet didn’t matter to anyone but me. “No,” I said. “That’s how she was when we found her.”
    â€œHmmm. Well, okay, then. We’ve examined the car, and we should have the preliminary coroner’s report in a few hours. I told Ms. Osway that I’m going to release your brother for the time being.”
    â€œYou are?” I gripped the phone, my stomach fluttering with hope. “It’s all right for him to leave?”
    â€œNot leave the area, no. But his alcohol level and everything else checked out okay. We don’t need to keep him here at the station, as long as I know where to reach him.” He paused. “I’ll see you later today, Miss Martinez.”
    â€œOkay. Bye.” I hung up the phone and turned to Beth, who was watching me. “He said Jamie can go.”
    She nodded. “Yes, we can pick him up around ten. That’s good. I guess the Breathalyzer test turned out fine.”
    â€œSo they know it wasn’t his fault? They won’t, like, press charges or anything?”
    She poured coffee into two mugs. “He didn’t say that,” she said carefully.
    â€œBut don’t you think—”
    â€œI think it’s good that they’re releasing him.” She looked at me with the same appraising gaze she seemed to wear, not sympathetic, not even polite, just watchful and assessing. “But I wouldn’t assume anything. Not when someone’s dead.”
    I flinched.
    She pushed one of the mugs across the counter toward me and cupped hers with both hands. She was silent. I sniffed the bitter steam. It reminded me of my mom having breakfast at home. I didn’t usually drink coffee, but now I tasted it, somehow afraid not to. It scalded my tongue.
    I tried to think of something else to talk about. “How long have you lived here?”
    â€œNine years. I came from Detroit.”
    â€œReally? By yourself? You don’t have a husband or kids or anything?”
    â€œNo. I’m divorced. He took the house, I got the dogs.”
    â€œBut you said you don’t like dogs.”
    â€œRight. That’s divorce. You each get half, but not the half you want.” She smiled a little, running her hands through her hair and tucking it behind her ears. “I’m used to them now.”
    I thought of how this place seemed at night, as vast and bottomless as the ocean. I couldn’t imagine living here by myself. “Aren’t you scared? Being out here alone?”
    Beth sipped her coffee. “No, not really. The dogs are too friendly to be much protection, but they make a lot of noise.” She looked out the window. “I like it here. It’s quiet. And when you get used to it, the desert’s beautiful.”
    â€œBut it’s so empty,” I said.
    Beth

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