Read Hydraulic Level Five (1) for Free Online Page A

you’ll find a parking spot anywhere near the bookstore,” Cassady said. “Why don’t you and Kaye go in, and I’ll find something down the street, eh?”
    Molly gazed passionately at Cassady, as if he’d just suggested they elope to Vegas. Opening their doors, they flipped up their hoods and dodged around the car, ignoring the honking drivers behind them. Molly swung my door open and pulled me into the rain.
    “Come on, Kaye, let’s make a run for it.”
    Tucking Samuel’s book under my raincoat, we dashed for the bookstore, hopping over puddles. I was glad beyond belief I’d talked Molly out of putting me in heels, though she had managed a more feminine pair of boots and a dress. We’d also taken care of my split ends, not that my hair stood any chance in this wet weather. Dragging me behind her, Molly tried to push her way through the bookstore door only to be rebuffed by a dozen women and one lonely man.
    “Line starts back there,” one of them said snippily, rivulets of rainwater streaming from her umbrella and bouncing off our hoods.
    Molly put her hands on her hips and glared. “Look, we’re not here for the nixies. There’s this fantastic cookbook, Heroin for Breakfast , I want to pick up. Heard of it?”
    “Ahhh…” The girl stared at pink-faced Molly in a new light, her umbrella drooping.
    “Come on, Molly. We need to hurry up and get that book before three.” I smiled at the umbrella girl. “My boyfriend’s getting paroled today. I’m so excited to see him again—it’s been years!”
    The girl nodded mutely, stepping aside to let us through the door.
    The inside of the bookstore was even more chaotic than outside. Hundreds of people swarmed through book aisles, chatted, compared costumes. I recognized quite a few of them. We could have had an impromptu high school reunion, with all the old classmates who drove over from Lyons to see Samuel Cabral again. My eyes searched the store for the front of the line, where he’d be. There was a massive display with panoramic mountains and The Last Other sweeping across the top in gothic font.
    I spotted Caroline talking with the bookstore owner, tall and regal in an obviously expensive, tailored suit. Her black silk hair was business-bobbed and swished whenever she shook her head. I’d met her briefly when she initially visited TrilbyJones and she’d been nice, but all work—just like now.
    I stood on tip-toes to peer above the sea of fans, then hopped onto a shelf ladder.
    There he was. Or rather, the top of his head. I could barely make out a muddy-haired man bent over a book, scrawling in the cover while he spoke with the young lady in front of him. The cuffs of his dress shirt were rolled, exposing tan, graceful wrists. I’d always loved the way his hands moved, whether they were playing a guitar, smoothing over my skin, or simply signing a book. The strong lines of his face were softened only by a slightly rounded nose, just like Alonso’s, and dense lashes that canopied his gaze. He looked up, returned the girl’s copy, and gave her that lovely, lazy smile of his. His eyes, blue as mountain lakes, cut across the crowded bookstore floor.
    My heart hammered hard. So hard, I was sure Molly could hear it next to me. She offered me an encouraging smile then tugged my hand.
    “Kaye, restroom. You have raccoon eyes from the rain.”
    I let her pull me through the crowds, between bookshelves and into the ladies’ room. A few people did double-takes as we passed, and I wasn’t sure if it was because they recognized me from town, or because I looked half-stoned. My hands trembled so badly, Molly had to fix my makeup for me.
    “Take off the raincoat. Now turn around.” She fluffed my hair, pulled stray strands off of my knit dress and gave me the green light to strut my stuff.
    “Okay, Molly. What’s the plan?” We edged along the side of the wall, skirting the book line.
    “First, calm down. Next, try to put yourself in his line of vision.