By Nevada Barr
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Extra info for Anna Pigeon 02 A Superior Death
The fog’s been cat-footing around. Are you sure it wasn’t red and white? The Third Sister was heading this direction. ” “Green. And they saw us. They’d‘ve had to. Not a sign. The bastards left us sloshing up, to our knees in bilge. They probably heard the rainbow were running in Siskiwit and couldn’t wait. When my dad used to bring me out here—oh, twenty years ago at least…” Anna let him ramble, even remembering to grunt or sigh— listening noises her sister had taught her. “It comforts people,” Molly had said.
Anna’s bed, dresser, and closet were against the inside wall. Beside the bed, where the cracked blue-and-red-speckled linoleum came to a curling end, was a faded oval rag rug. When Anna’s housemate, Christina, had visited from Houghton, she had stood on that rug as a woman might stand on an island in a rising sea of offal and remarked: “How charming. ” She’d laughed though, and before she and Alison— her five-year-old daughter—had left, she’d managed to make it a home for Anna. A patchwork coverlet and handmade pillows brightened the bed.
Yes,” Anna said neutrally. “It’s the last of it, I promise. It was ordered without my approval and it seemed a shame to pour it out. It’s such an ordeal getting anything good shipped out here back of beyond. I’ve got quite a decent California red coming in on the Ranger Three. Glen Ellen has a nice cabernet sauvignon. ” Anna teased, thinking of Molly and her neurotic gourmet. Patience smiled. “Do I sound pretentious? Habit. ” “Vodka and beer are the booze ordinaire in this part of the country.