Senseless Acts of Beauty Read Free Page A

six-foot taxidermy bear that flanked the fireplace on one side, and the wide, sweeping antlers of a moose mounted above. But Riley’s eye inevitably caught on the duct tape holding the antlers together, the floor that needed refurbishing, the game table held stable by a rubber-banded deck of cards under the leg, and the glass-topped coffee table with the nicked edges. The 1970s no doubt wanted those faded plaid couches back, if she could ever afford to buy new ones.
    At least she’d lit a fire. A nice fire always drew attention away from the failing zoo vibe and made the room cozy, timeless.
    Riley slid a hip on the raised hearth and gestured for Sadie to sit on the other side of the tray of food. Sadie sat, dropped the backpack between her feet, and then seized the cup of hot chocolate. After drinking deep, she palmed the grilled cheese and took an enormous bite. The girl’s eyes drifted closed like she’d never tasted anything so good.
    “So,” Riley began, as Sadie swallowed half the sandwich, “is there anyone I can call for you? The phone lines aren’t down yet, but I wouldn’t count on that for long.”
    Sadie shook her head and buried her face in the hot chocolate again. Riley wished she’d at least topped it with a layer of marshmallows. The girl needed some real meat on her bones. Riley considered making another sandwich in the kitchen, but she had a strange feeling that, if she left the room, there was a good chance Sadie would wolf down the last of the sandwich, shrug into Riley’s own slicker, and then disappear back into the rain. After all, the girl had stolen a lot of things in the past couple of weeks.
    Ah, yes. One theft had to be addressed. “Hey, Sadie, you wouldn’t happen to have my Leica in that backpack, would you?”
    Sadie froze with the mug between her hands.
    “My binoculars,” she explained, shrugging. “I have several pairs, some old ones that I really should give away. I don’t mind if you borrowed a pair at all, especially if it were for bird watching. But the Leica are my particular favorite, and I’ve really been missing them these past few days.”
    Placing the mug down, Sadie tugged on the zipper of her backpack. “I was going to give them back.”
    “I know.”
    “I borrowed them,” Sadie said, as she pulled out the binoculars, “because I heard something screaming in the middle of the night.”
    “A screech owl, I bet. Scary call, I know.” Riley took the binoculars, cold and damp, hoping the rain hadn’t gotten into the optics. “Did you find him? By the big oak? By the marshy area?”
    “He’s somewhere near that beaver dam.”
    “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
    Sadie shrugged and gave her a look like she was wondering if Riley were dealing with a full deck.
    Riley was used to that.
    “Well, that owl is almost as beautiful as the crane you folded for me.” Riley gestured toward the reception desk, upon which lay a bowl full of her mysterious visitor’s origami. “I put that crane in with his brothers and sisters.”
    “I didn’t want you to think it was stolen.”
    “I know apology origami when I see it.”
    “It wasn’t—” Sadie stopped herself. She lifted the mug, then lowered it once she realized it was empty. She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling. “Thanks,” she finally said, “for letting me…borrow your binoculars. Can I ask you,” she continued, as her gaze drifted to Riley’s hair. “Is that color real?”
    Riley ran her fingers through her frizzed hair. After last fall’s drastic cut, it was taking its time growing back, and it had reached that awkward stage where it wasn’t quite long enough to pull into a ponytail but just long enough to make her look like she’d stuck her finger in an electric socket. “One hundred percent real. Can’t control it much in this weather. I guess we’ve got that in common.”
    Sadie didn’t smile. In the silence, the fire crackled, something in the wood popping and