Angels Fall

thought, that sexuality was going to boil over. Nothing wrong with that, not a thing wrong with it. They were both unattached adults. Sex was healthy; contemplating having sex with an attractive man was a normal female activity.
    It was progress.
    So she could take all that progress, all those steps, and use them in the next town.
    She set her pencil down when the kettle began to sputter. It was whistling shrilly when she reached up for a cup and saucer. No teapot, she remembered. Maybe in the next place she stopped she'd treat herself to one.
    She turned off the burner, moved the kettle to a cool one. As the whistle died, someone banged on the door.
    She'd have shrieked if she'd had the breath left in her for it. As it was, she jerked back hard enough to rap her hip on the counter. Even as her hand closed around the handle of her chef's knife. Joanie's voice barked through the locked door.
    "Open up, for chrissake. I haven't got all night."
    On jellied knees Reece hurned across the room and, as quietly as she could manage, drew the chair away. "Sorry, just a second!"
    She unlocked the door, unlatched the security chain. "I was in the kitchen." Recce said.
    "Yeah, and this place is so spacious I'm surprised you heard me." Joanie trooped in smelling of spices and smoke. "Scraped together the last bowl of that soup—have to make more next time. You eat?"
    "Well, I—"
    "Never mind." Joanie set the covered hot take-away cup on the counter. "Eat now. Go on." She waved impatiently when Reece hesitated. "It's still hot. I'm taking my break."
    So saying, she walked to the front window, opened it a few inches. Then she took out a lighter and a pack of Marlboro Lights. "You gonna piss me off and say I can't smoke in here?"
    "No." Having nothing else suitable. Reece carried over the tea saucer to serve as an ashtray. "How's the crowd tonight?"
    "Not bad. That soup was popular. You can do tomorrow's if you've got an idea for it."
    "Sure, that's no problem."
    "Sit down and eat."
    "You don't have to stand by the window."
    "Used to it." But Joanie planted a butt cheek on the sill. "Smells good in here."
    "I just had a bath. Tropical Mango."
    "Nice." Joanie took a contemplative drag. "You got company coming?"
    "What? No. no, not tonight."
    "Lo's downstairs." Absently, Joanie tapped ashes out the open window. "He wanted to bring that soup up. I don't think it was to hit on you, especially as he said he thought Linda-gail should come up with him. Still, give him an inch."
    "That was nice of him."
    "He's worried about you, figures you must be scared and upset"
    "Used to it," Reece said with a halt smile as she sat down to eat the soup. "But I'm doing all right."
    "He's not the only one worried. Words got around, as word does, about what you saw on the trail yesterday."
    "Saw, or thought I saw?"
    "Well, which is it?"
    "I saw."
    "Okay then. Linda-gail wanted me to tell you she'd come up and stay the night if you didn't want to be alone, or you could go to her place."
    Reece paused with the spoon partway to her lips. "She did?"
    "No, I just made that up so you could gawk at me."
    "That's so sweet of her. But I'm all right."
    "You look better than you did, I'll say that." Bracing her back against the window jamb, Joanie flicked more ashes. "Seeing as I'm your boss and your landlord, it's been my task today to field inquiries as to how you're doing, and to promise to give you people's good thoughts. Mac, Carl. Doc, Bebe, Pete, Beck and so on. I won't say some of them didn't come by hoping to get a look at you, or a nugget of information from me, but most everyone was sincere in their concern. Thought you should know."
    "I appreciate the inquiries, the good thoughts, the concern. Joanie, the sheriff can't find anything."
    "Some things take longer to find than others. Rick'll keep looking."
    "Yes. I suppose he will. But he doesn't really believe I saw what I said I saw. Why should he, really? Why should anyone? Or if they do now, they'll think about it differently once word gets around—as word does— about what happened back in Boston. And…" She trailed off, narrowing her eyes. "I guess it already has."
    "Somebody murmured to somebody who murmured to somebody else. So, yeah, there's been some talk about what happened back there, and how you were hurt."
    "Had to happen. "She tried to shrug it off. "Now there will be more murmurs, more talk. Then it'll be. 'Oh. that poor thing, she had such a bad time and can't get past it. Imagining