The Salt Maiden Read Free

confirmation either, since their owner had no curves to fill them.
    Stunned by their abruptness, Dana demanded, “How do you know why I’m here, and what do you know about my sister?”
    “I know we’ve got one shot at this salt dome project,” said the woman, “and your sister ’s done her damnedest to queer the deal for us. So as far as I’m concerned, good riddance to bad rubbish.”
    Five minutes later Dana was back out in her idling car again, having been told, “We don’t serve a damned thing ‘green and meat-free’ in the Broken Spur,” by Abe Hooks, the owner of the area’s sole restaurant, gas pump, and store.
    “Pompous redneck,” she grumbled. She had half a mind to sic her mother on him to teach him the finer points of condescension.
    As if on cue, there was a ringing from the seat beside her. Bracing herself, Dana pushed a button to answer the satellite telephone her mother had rented after learning that regular cell phone reception here was spotty at best. Unthinkable that Dana should stray beyond the range of her influence.
    “You’re there?” her mother asked. “Did you find out anything?”
    “Not much,” Dana admitted, “but I haven’t met the sheriff yet.”
    “You tell him he’d better hurry. You tell him we’re not losing that poor child.”
    “You mean Nikki.” Dana had noticed that her mother never said the name, as if the idea of a cancer-stricken granddaughter appealed more than the individual.
    “Of course I mean her. Who else? I swear, I haven’t slept a wink in days. I’m too afraid that if I close my eyes, the phone will ring, and—”
    “I understand, Mom.” Dana had heard it in her nightmares, the call that would tell her she was already too late. Though Nikki was holding her own so far, germs had a way of slipping past even the most thorough precautions. “Has there been any change yet?”
    “Nothing that I’ve heard about.”
    In the background Dana caught the bright clink of ice cubes and the more muted coos of doves. Evidence enough that her mother was unwinding with her usual “happyhour” vodka tonic as she lay beneath her vine-draped trellis, her painted toenails pointed toward a bright blue pool.
    Though she hated vodka tonics, Dana’s mouth watered at the thought of her mother’s backyard paradise in the River Oaks neighborhood of Houston. As her eyes scanned dust-beige bleakness, she struggled to recall cool turquoiseframed by greenery and the sweet fragrance of the pale pink blooms of Isabel’s specially imported honeysuckle.
    “I know it must be tough there waiting,” Dana allowed. “But maybe you’ll feel better hearing that I’ll be dining on filet d’Power Bar this evening. And sleeping heaven knows where.”
    The nearest hotel was back in Pecos, and the thought of adding yet another hour to the nine hours she had already spent on the road depressed her. Was it possible that someone here rented rooms?
    “Just try to think of this as an adventure, Dana. Let’s keep this about Nikki, dear, not you.”
    Resentment prickled. Though she had been away from home only a day, Dana already missed Lynette, her fellow veterinarian and business partner, along with her Welsh corgis, Ben and Jerry. She missed the ice cream, too, along with the prospect of a big, crisp salad, a long shower, and a longer sleep in her own bed.
    Movement caught her eye, a dust cloud rising in the distance and drifting steadily toward the courthouse along the rutted desert road. Other than a roadrunner chasing after something—a lizard, maybe—it was the only activity in town. Though she felt certain unseen eyes were watching from the few buildings in range, not another person stirred. Even the pair of stunted trees and the courthouse lawn had withered in the heat.
    “I’d better go. The sheriff’s coming. I’ll call you if there’s anything new.”
    “You be sure and mention my suggestions,” Isabel urged her.
    Dana had a clear vision of herself hiking far