Angels Fall

finessed the shape of the woman's mouth and eyes. Thinned out the eyebrows a bit more.
    "That's it." Reece set her cup down with a little rattle. "That's her. It's good, it's really close. It's what I remember she looked like. What it seemed she did. I—"
    "Stop second-guessing yourself," Brody ordered. "It that's your impression of her, it's good enough."
    "Not from the Fist." Doc looked up at Brody. "Doesn't look like anyone I know, not offhand."
    "No. But if she passed through, someone saw her. Getting gas, supplies. We'll show it around."
    "Rick can fax copies to other town authorities." Doc pursed his lips as he studied his own sketch. "Maybe Park Service, too. She doesn't look familiar to me. I've treated just about everyone in the Fist and the local vicinity over the years. Including tourists and transients, one time or another. Hell, anyone born hereabouts in the last twenty years, I'm likely the one who gave their butt its first slap. She's not one of ours."
    "And if they never came through here," Reece said quietly, "we may never know who she was."
    "That's what I like about you, Slim. Always thinking positive." Brady cashed another cookie. "You want to take a shot at describing him for the doc?"
    "I didn't see him. Not really. Flashes of profile. His back, his hands, but he was wearing gloves. It seemed like he had big hands, but that really could be just me projecting. Cap, sunglasses, coat."
    "Any hair below the cap?" Doc asked.
    "No. I don't think so. I didn't notice. She was… in the spotlight, you could say. She had center stage, and then when he knocked her down, I was so stunned. And still, I guess I watched her more. I couldn't stop watching her, what was happening to her."
    "How about his jawline?"
    "All I can think is hard. He seemed hard. But I said that about her. didn't I?" She rubbed at her eyes, tried to think. "He was very still most of the time, and I had the impression of control. She was livid and ranting, and he just stood there, hardly moved. Economical? She was all over the place, gesturing, pacing, pointing. He pushed her, but it was almost like swatting a fly. I'm projecting."
    "Maybe you are, maybe you're not." Doc sketched idly. "What about build?"
    "Everything about him seems big now, but I can't be sure. Taller and broader than she was, certainly. In the end, when I see him straddle her, I think he must have known exactly what he was doing. Restraining her arms that way. He could've held her down like that, worn her out until he could reason with her, then walked away. Maybe it was because of the distance, but it seemed so deliberate, so cold."
    Doc turned his sketch pad around again, held it up. And Reece shuddered.
    This was a full-length image, back turned, face in one-quarter profile. Because it could have been so many men, fear balled ice in Reece's belly.
    "Anonymous," she commented.
    "Still, you can eliminate some people right from the Fist," Doc said. "Pete, let's say. Little guy, scrawny. Or Little Joe Pierce, who's carrying around an extra hundred pounds and hypertension."
    "Or Carl. He's shaped like a barrel. Wrong build." Another knot un-raveled. "You're right. And I don't think he was young. I mean, say, teens or very early twenties. His carriage, his, um, body language was more mature than that. Thanks. It clears my head a little."
    "Wasn't me." Brody lifted a shoulder. "Unless I channeled Superman and flew over the Snake and back."
    "No." For the first time since they'd begun, Reece smiled. "It wasn't you."
    "I'll make copies, post one in my office. Most everybody's through there." Doc picked up the sketch of the woman again. "I'll take copies down to the sheriff's office."
    "Thanks. A lot."
    "Like I said, it's a little like playing detective. Interesting change of pace for me. Brody, why don't you take this tray on back to the kitchen for me."
    And the look Doc sent Brody told Reece the doctor was in again, and she was the patient. She struggled not to resent it, not after the favor he'd just done for her. But her back stiffened as Brody left the room.
    "I didn't come here for a medical consult," she began.
    "Maybe you should. But the fact is, I'm an old country doctor, and you're sitting in my parlor. Your eyes are tired. How are you sleeping?"
    "Spotty. Some nights are better than others."
    "Appetite?"
    ''Comes and goes. Comes more than it used to. I know my physical health is tied to my mental health. I'm not ignoring either."
    "Headaches?"
    "Yes." she said