Houses of Stone by KATHY (booksvooks .TXT) 📕

Peggy and Joan had crossed the road. "I'll think about it," Karen said. "Excuse me, Bill—"

"Discuss it with Peggy," Meyer urged. "I suppose you'll be here early tomorrow? So will I. We can talk then."

"Fine. I really must go, I don't want to detain Peggy any longer."

She waited till a van had passed and then started to cross the road.

Sound, movement and impact slammed together in a single blur of sensation. A human cry, a mechanical scream, a heavy object striking and lifting her. Mud and weeds cushioned her fall; it was shock rather than pain that kept her motionless, curled in upon herself like a small animal fearing further attack. Then hands, unsteady and gentle, moved over her head and arms and she saw Peggy kneeling beside her.

"Anything broken?" Peggy's voice wasn't too steady either.

"No." Slowly Karen rolled over and sat up. "I'm all right, really. Just surprised. It happened so fast ..."

Peggy let out her breath and sat back on her heels. "I guess the car didn't hit you. It was a near thing, though. If he hadn't pushed you out of the way ..."

Several people had gathered around something that lay on the ground nearby. He lay face down, unmoving, but she recognized the white shirt, now stained and wrinkled, and the dark head half hidden by the weeds.

Chapter Twelve

Female writers should only aspire to excellence by courageously acknowledging the limitations of their sex.

Sir Egerton Brydges, 1928

"It was not some smartass kid," Joan insisted. "The driver was a woman."

"How do you know?" Peggy demanded. "You didn't see any more than I did. I didn't turn until I heard Bill shout, and by that time there was nothing to be seen except bodies flying through the air. For a few interminable seconds I thought . . . Excuse me. I need another drink."

At the time she had been the calmest person on the scene. After ascertaining that Karen was unhurt except for bumps and bruises, she had dragged her to the car and driven her straight home, leaving Joan to tend the other victim. She and Sharon had arrived shortly afterward. Sharon was trying to be the cool voice of reason, but she hadn't made much progress; everyone else was shouting and interrupting and contradicting one another, and a cool voice of reason is not supposed to yell.

Joan followed Peggy, presumably on the same errand, and Sharon finally got her chance.

"The important thing is that no one was seriously injured," she said in her measured professional voice. "Though I do think you ought to have taken Dr. Meyer to the emergency room, Joan."

"He wouldn't go. So far as I could see there was nothing wrong with him except a few square inches of missing skin and a possible sprained wrist." Joan returned to her chair and collapsed with a martyred sigh. Karen detected a certain gleam in her eye, however. "Every cloud has a silver lining, as they say. This gave me an excuse to insist on driving him home. Isn't it lucky he is staying at the same motel?"

"There is only one," Sharon pointed out. "You were quite right, Joan, he shouldn't have tried to drive immediately after a shock of that sort, but for heaven's sake don't say things like—like that remark about silver linings. People who don't know you might misunderstand."

"What's to misunderstand? I like men, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm afraid I'm out of luck with Bill, though. All he'd talk about was Karen. He asked if I meant to stay a few days and my little heart started to go pitter-pat, and then the adorable son of a bitch said he knew he could count on me to look after her."

"I don't need looking after," Karen said automatically.

Peggy's lips parted. Catching Karen's eye she coughed and said nothing.

"It was a horrible shock for everyone, of course," Sharon said. "But I'm sure we all agree that further discussion would be counterproductive. No one managed to get the license number of the truck—"

"Our attention was elsewhere," Peggy said sarcastically.

"—so the police could not possibly identify the driver," Sharon went on, ignoring the interruption with professional coolness. "I hope none of you believe this was anything more sinister than a case of reckless driving. Many of these young men drive too fast and drink when they drive. There is a sharp curve in the road and the surface was slippery with mud—"

"I still think it was a woman," Joan said.

"Some women drive too fast and drink when they drive," Sharon began.

"And there was a sharp curve, et cetera," Peggy said. "You've made your point, Sharon. Further speculation would be a waste of time—and God knows I'd prefer to accept your interpretation."

"Good." Impeccably groomed, every hair in place and every article of attire crisply pressed, Sharon studied the others with a critical frown. "Are you going to change before we go out to dinner? Karen is clean, at least, but if you'll excuse me for saying so, Peggy—"

"Joan looks worse than I do," Peggy said sullenly.

"I wanted her to change before we left the motel, but she was in a wild rush to get over here. Why don't you and she—"

"The hell with changing." Joan lifted her feet onto a hassock and reached for her glass of beer. "Let's go someplace quick and casual. I might wash my hands and comb my hair if you ask me nicely."

"I agree," Peggy said. "Nobody feels like dressing up. I suggest we eat here. We've got a lot of work to do on that auction list and we ought to get to bed early."

Peggy prevailed, as she usually did when she had her mind made up. Joan volunteered to go forth in search of portable food; Sharon volunteered to go with her, in search of socially acceptable healthy food.

After they had gone, the other two sat in silence for a few moments. Then Peggy said, "It must have been Bill who