WE WERE GATHERED on the deck of Rose Cottage, outside of Point Reyes, feeling the blessed night breeze on our cheeks. Yuki flipped1 on the heater for the hot tub, while Claire tossed a giant salad and made burgers for the grill2.
This impromptu3 getaway was Cindy’s idea. She had corralled us in a conference call only hours before, saying, “Since our first attempt at a Women’s Murder Club Annual Getaway Weekend was canceled due to someone answering a call to return to work, we should grab this opportunity to drop everything and go now.”
Cindy added that she’d booked the cottage and that she would drive.
There was no saying no to Cindy, and for once I was glad to turn the wheel over to her.
Yuki and Claire had both slept in the backseat during the drive, and I’d ridden shotgun with Martha in my lap, her ears flapping in the wind. I listened to Cindy talk over the car’s CD player, my mind floating blissfully as we neared the ocean.
Once we’d arrived at the rose-covered hobbit house with its two snug4 bedrooms plus picnic table and grill in the clearing at the edge of a forest, we’d slapped each other high fives and dropped our bags on our beds. Yuki had left her box of files in her room and come with Martha and me as we took a short run up a moonlit trail to the top of a wooded ridge5 and back again.
And now I was ready for a meal, a margarita, and a great night’s sleep. But when we got back to Rose Cottage, my cell phone was ringing. Claire groused6, “That damned thing’s been ringin’ its buttons off, girlfriend. Either turn it off or give it to me and I’ll stomp7 it to death.”
I grinned at my best friend, pulled the phone from my handbag, saw the number on the caller ID.
It was Jacobi.
I stabbed the send button, said hello, and heard traffic noise mixed in with the wail8 of fire engine sirens.
I shouted, “Jacobi. Jacobi, what’s up?”
“Didn’t you get my messages?”
“No, I just caught this ring on the fly.”
The sirens in the background, the fact that Jacobi was calling at all, caused me to imagine a new fire and another couple of charred9 bodies killed by a psycho looking for kicks. I pressed my ear hard to the phone, strained to hear Jacobi over the street noise.
“I’m on Missouri Street,” he told me.
That was my street. What was he doing on my street? Had something happened to Joe?
“There’s been a fire, Boxer10. Look, there’s no good way to say this. You have to come home right now.”
1 flipped | |
轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 ); 按(开关); 快速翻转; 急挥 | |
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2 grill | |
n.烤架,铁格子,烤肉;v.烧,烤,严加盘问 | |
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3 impromptu | |
adj.即席的,即兴的;adv.即兴的(地),无准备的(地) | |
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4 snug | |
adj.温暖舒适的,合身的,安全的;v.使整洁干净,舒适地依靠,紧贴;n.(英)酒吧里的私房 | |
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5 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
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6 groused | |
v.抱怨,发牢骚( grouse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7 stomp | |
v.跺(脚),重踩,重踏 | |
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8 wail | |
vt./vi.大声哀号,恸哭;呼啸,尖啸 | |
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9 charred | |
v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式);烧焦 | |
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10 boxer | |
n.制箱者,拳击手 | |
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