The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,52
“They’re on their way.”
Sara got to her feet, swaying. Becky came back with the blanket, and swept it over Cameron’s body. Sara swallowed convulsively, glanced once at Faith, then bolted away.
Lambertson made a move to follow. “Let her go,” Faith said, stalling him with an outstretched hand. Lamb frowned, but stayed where he was.
Faith stared after her sister, sensing waves of guilt and anguish even from that distance. Oh, Sara, she thought, heartsick.
It would be no use telling her sister that she couldn’t have saved him, or somehow done something to bring him back.
Sara had felt exactly the same when their father died.
Chapter Ten
Sara pushed the empty beer bottle onto the table to join its fellows. The bottle’s lines blurred and swam in the lantern glow. How many drinks had she had since the helicopter had brought the police to investigate? They’d determined it an “accident,” which was complete crap. That scaffold was rock solid. Her crew made sure of it every morning. She reached into the cooler at her foot for another beer, counting the chirps of a night insect outside her tent.
“Hey,” came a hushed voice from the doorway.
Sitting in the chair facing away from the door, she couldn’t see her tormentor. “Go away.” She heard the person enter the tent in spite of her warning. “I said go away. Let me get drunk in peace.”
The figure rounded the edge of the table. She recognized Ian from the corner of her eye and glanced up.
She must have looked as wretched as she felt, because his expression went from concerned to alarmed. His gaze fell on the throng of empty bottles. “You didn’t show up at the inlet, so I came to see if you were all right.”
Sara took a healthy swallow of her new beer. “Yessss. I am all right. I’m walking around... Sitting around. Talking. Breathing. Drinking.” She saluted him with her bottle. “Drinking quite a bit, actually. And planning to do more drinking.” She took another gulp and pursed her lips around the bite of the alcohol as it went down. Still not dulled enough.
Ian pulled the other chair around and sat beside her. “I saw a chopper today. What happened down here?”
She curled her lip. “What happened is, I’m the one who insisted we brace the fault and stay here. What happened is, twenty-three-year-old Cameron Leone got crushed under a scaffold, and it’s my fault he’s dead. What happened is, no one has let me get quietly drunk since six o’clock this evening, and it’s beginning to piss me off. That’s what happened today.” She tipped the bottle up again, drained its contents in one long swallow, then slammed it down onto the table. “Between Lamb, and Faith, and Flintrop, I don’t know why the hell I’m even here. I should find a way to open that damn ley line and walk right in. Maybe they’ll give Cameron back in trade.”
Ian stood, pushed the cooler away with the heel of his boot, and reached for her hands. “Come on, don’t do this.”
She lurched to her feet and flung his hands off. “Damn it, just go away! I don’t want anybody here! I swear to God, I’ll throw you clear back to your ca—”
“I’d like to see you try. You’re plastered.” He shot a look at the procession of empty bottles on the table.
Sara tried to hold his angry blue stare and couldn’t. She took one unsteady step forward, pushing at him. “Just. Go. Away.”
“Like hell I will. I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”
“Who’s letting me? I’m a grown woman,” she snapped, turning away toward her cot. “I wish someone would tell Lamb that. Everyone seems to know what’s best for me, and to hell with what I think.”
“What are you talking about?”
She pivoted back toward him. The room swayed. She managed to keep her feet and muster another dark look. “I’ve been given an ultimatum to stay away from you until the dig is finished.”
“Or what? They’ll send you to your room without dinner?”
She thumped him in the chest. “You see my point, here. Pass me another beer.”
He propped a boot on the cooler’s lid and crossed his arms. “I don’t think so.”
“Don’t be a jerk, Ian.”
“I’m not. Give up on the beer for tonight. You’re not getting it.”
She threw her hands in the air and stumbled toward her cot, then dropped onto it like a stone. “Another asshole who knows what’s best for me.”