"Roberts, Nora - Divine Evil(1)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)adrenaline pumped fast and kept you from dwelling on the reality. But picking
your way over decomposing bodies kind of knocked you over the head with your own ultimate destiny. An owl hooted, causing Deputy Bud Hewitt, who walked beside Cam, to jolt. The deputy grinned sheepishly and cleared his throat. "Spooky place, huh, Sheriff?" Cam gave a noncommittal grunt. At thirty, he was only three years BudТs senior and had grown up on the same stretch of Dog Run Road. HeТd dated BudТs sister, Sarah, for a wild and rocky three months during his senior year at Emmitsboro High and had been present when Bud had thrown up his first six-pack of beer. But he knew Bud got a charge out of calling him sheriff. "DonТt think too much of it during the day," Bud went on. He had a young, simple face, all curves and rosy skin. His hair was the color of straw and stuck up at odd angles no matter how often he wet his comb and fought it down. "But at night it makes you think about all those vampire movies." "These people arenТt undead, theyТre just dead." "Right." But Bud wished he had a silver bullet instead of regulation .38 slugs in his revolver. "ItТs over here, Sheriff." The two teenagers who had chosen the cemetery to neck in gestured him along. TheyТd been spooked when theyТd come squealing up his lane and banging on his door, but now they were running on panicked excitement. And loving it. "Right here." The boy, seventeen and sporting a denim jacket and scuffed Air JordanТs, pointed. He wore a small gold stud in his left earЧa sign of stupidity or bravery in a town like Emmitsboro. At his side the girl, a cuddly cheerleader Emmitsboro High on Monday. Cam shone his light on the overturned marker. The grave was that of John Robert Hardy, 1881-1882, an infant who had lived one brief year and been dead more than a hundred. Below the fallen marker, the grave yawned wide, a dark, empty pit. "See? ItТs just like we told you." The boy swallowed audibly. The whites of his eyes gleamed in the shadowed light. "Somebody dug it up." "I can see that, Josh." Cam stooped down to shine his light into the hole. There was nothing there but dirt and the smell of old death. "You think it was grave robbers, Sheriff?" Excitement throbbed in JoshТs voice. He was ashamed of the fact that heТd scrambled and bolted like a rabbit after he and Sally had all but tumbled into the yawning grave while rolling on the wild grass. He preferred to remember that heТd had his hand up her shirt. He wanted her to remember it too, so he spoke with authority. "I read about how they dig up graves looking for jewelry and body parts. They sell the body parts for experiments and stuff." "I donТt think theyТd have found much here." Cam straightened. Though he considered himself a sensible man, peering into the open grave gave him the willies. "You run along, see Sally home. WeТll take it from here." Sally looked up at him with huge eyes. She had a secret crush on Sheriff Rafferty. SheТd heard her mother gossiping about him with a neighbor, chattering about his wild days as a teenager in Emmitsboro when heТd worn a leather jacket and driven a motorcycle and busted up ClydeТs Tavern in a fight over a girl. He still had a motorcycle and looked to her as if he could still be wild if he wanted. He was six-two with a ready, wiry build. He didnТt wear a dumb khaki |
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