"Linda Evans - Time Scout 1 - Time Scout" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Linda)

high
leather boots, hauling a compact suitcase that looked like it weighed as much
as
she did, bore down on him with the apparent homing instinct of a striking
hawk:
"Hi! I'm looking for Kit Carson-any idea where I might find him?"
"Uh..." Malcolm said intelligently as every drop of blood in his brain
transmuted instantaneously to the nether regions of his anatomy. Not only did
Malcolm have no idea where the retired time scout might be lurking this time
of
day ...
God ...It ought to be illegal to look like that!
Clearly, it'd been far too long since Malcolm had
He gave himself an irritable mental kick. Just where might she find Kit? He
probably wasn't at his hotel, not this late in the morning; but it was a
little
early for drinking. Of course, he enjoyed watching departures as much as any
other 'eighty-sixer.
The delightful little minx who'd accosted him was tapping one leather-clad
foot in an excess of energy. With her short auburn hair, freckles, and clear
green eyes, she gave the impression of an Irish alleycat, intent on her own
business and impatient with anything that got in her way. She was the darned
cutest thing Malcolm had seen come through Primary in months. He kept his gaze
on her face with studied care.
"Try the Down Time Bar and Grill. If anyone knows, the regulars there
might.
Or you could..."
He trailed off. She was already gone, like a bullet from the barrel of a
smoking gun. That damned leather miniskirt did evil things to Malcolm's breath
control.
"Well." He rested hands on hips. "If that doesn't ..." He couldn't imagine
why a girl that age-and in a tearing hurry, besides-would be looking for Kit
Carson of all people. "Huh:" He tried to put her out of his mind and turned to
find his bewildered tourist with the cute kids. He needed a job worse than he
needed a mystery.
"Oh, bloody hell..." Skeeter Jackson, the louse, had already collared the
scared family and was hard at work playing with the youngest kid. Mom was
beaming. God help them.
He considered warning her, then glanced down at his artistically filthy
tunic
and swore again. Compared with Skeeter Jackson's groomed appearance, he didn't
stand a chance. Maybe he could get her aside later and explain the difference
between reliable guides and the Skeeter Jacksons of this world. Malcolm
sighed.
The way his luck had been running lately, she'd slap him for maligning that
"nice young man."
He decided maybe it wouldn't hurt to take up Ann's offer, after all.
Malcolm
strolled down the Commons on a reverse course through Castletown, Victoria
Station, and Frontier Town. He entered Urbs Romae just as the klaxon for