TWO HOURS after leaving the Hall of Justice, Yuki packed an overnight bag and headed out of town. She tried to shake the echo of Twilly’s voice as she drove over the Golden Gate Bridge toward Point Reyes.
Could Twilly really have killed Michael Campion? If so, why would he do it?
And why would he tell her?
She turned on the radio, found a classical station, dialed it up loud, and the music filled the car and her mind. It was a beautiful afternoon. She was going to Rose Cottage, to walk in the surf and remember that she wasn’t a quitter.
That she wouldn’t quit on this.
As she got onto Highway 1, she let the incomparable beauty of the place take her over. She switched off the radio, buzzed down all the car windows so she could hear the thundering waves break over the huge rocks below her. Moist ocean air whipped her hair away from her eyes and brought blood into her cheeks. She looked out over the blue, blue sea that stretched out to the horizon - no, out to Japan - and she breathed in the fresh air, consciously exhaled2, letting the tension go.
In the small town of Olema, she turned off Highway 1, passed the little shops at the intersection3, and from there negotiated the back roads by memory. She glanced down at her new wristwatch. It was only two thirty in the afternoon, plenty of sunlight left in the day.
The sign spelling out ROSE COTTAGE ¼ MILE was almost hidden by the roadside flora4, but Yuki caught it and made the turn through a forested glen and up an unpaved road that climbed the hillside. The rutted road became a driveway that looped in front of the manager’s cabin just ahead.
The manager, a tall, blond-haired woman named Paula Vaughan, welcomed Yuki back to Rose Cottage. They exchanged pleasantries as Vaughan ran Yuki’s credit card through the machine. And then the manager made the connection, saying, “I was just watching the news. Too bad you didn’t win.”
Yuki looked up, said, “You’ve got takeout menus, right? The Farm House does takeout?”
Minutes later, she opened the front door to Rose Cottage, dropped her bags in the larger of the two bedrooms, and opened the sliders to the deck. The Bear Valley hiking trail passed to the right of the cottage, climbed upward four hundred feet through a wooded area, opening at the top of a ridge1 to a brilliant ocean view.
She’d hiked this trail with Lindsay.
Yuki changed into jeans and hiking shoes. Then she unsnapped the locks on her briefcase5, took out her new Smith & Wesson .357 handgun, slipped it into one pocket of her Windbreaker, put her cell phone in the other. But before she could leave for her nature walk, there was an insistent6 knock on the door.
And the booming in her chest started all over again.
1 ridge | |
n.山脊;鼻梁;分水岭 | |
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2 exhaled | |
v.呼出,发散出( exhale的过去式和过去分词 );吐出(肺中的空气、烟等),呼气 | |
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3 intersection | |
n.交集,十字路口,交叉点;[计算机] 交集 | |
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4 flora | |
n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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5 briefcase | |
n.手提箱,公事皮包 | |
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6 insistent | |
adj.迫切的,坚持的 | |
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