羊毛战记 part 3 casting off 21-凯发k8官网

　　21

　　the next morning, juliette arrived early at her desk having stolen little more than four hours of sleep.

　　beside her computer, she saw a package waiting for her: a small bundle wrapped in recycled pulppaper and encircled with white electrical ties. she smiled at this last touch and reached into heroveralls for her multi-tool. pulling out the smallest pick from the tool, she stuck it into the clasp ofone of the electrical ties and slowly pulled the ratcheting device apart, keeping it intact for future use.

　　she remembered the trouble she’d gotten into as a mechanic’s shadow the day she’d been caughtcutting a plastic tie from an electrical board. walker, already an old crank those decades ago, hadyelled at her for the waste and then shown her how to tease the little clasp loose to preserve the tie forlater use.

　　years had passed, and when she was much older, she had found herself passing this lesson on toanother shadow named scottie. he had been a young lad at the time, but she had had a go at himwhen he had made the same careless mistake she once had. she remembered frightening the poor boywhite as a cinder block, and he had remained nervous around her for months after. maybe because ofthat outburst, she had paid him more attention as he continued his training, and eventually, the twohad grown close. he quickly grew up to become a capable young man, a whiz with electronics, ableto program a pump’s timing chip in less time than it took her to break one down and put it backtogether.

　　she loosened the other tie crossing the package and knew the bundle was from him. several yearsago, scottie had been recruited by it and had moved up to the thirties. he had become “too smart formechanical,” as knox had put it. juliette set the two electrical straps aside and pictured the youngman preparing this package for her. the request she’d wired down to mechanical the night beforemust’ve bounced back up to him, and he had spent the night dutifully doing this favor for her.

　　she pried the paper apart carefully. both it and the plastic ties would need to be returned; theywere both too dear for her to keep and light enough to porter on the cheap. as the package cameapart, she noticed that scottie had crimped the edges and had folded these tabs under each other, atrick children learned so they could wrap notes without the expense of glue or tape. she disassembledhis meticulous work with care, and the paper finally came loose. inside, she found a plastic box likethe kind used to sort nuts and bolts for small projects down in mechanical.

　　she opened the lid and saw that the package wasn’t just from scottie—it must’ve been hurried upto him along with a copy of her request. tears came to her eyes as the smell of mama jean’s oatmealand cornflour cookies drifted out. she plucked one, held it to her nose, and breathed deeply. maybeshe imagined it, but she swore she noted a hint of oil or grease emanating from the old box—thesmells of home.

　　juliette folded the wrapping paper carefully and placed the cookies on top. she thought of thepeople she would have to share them with. marnes, of course, but also pam in the cafeteria, who hadbeen so nice in helping her settle into her new apartment. and alice, jahns’s young secretary, whoseeyes had been red with grief for over a week. she pulled the last cookie out and finally spotted thesmall data drive rattling around in the bottom of the container, a little morsel baked special by scottieand hidden among the crumbs.

　　juliette grabbed it and set the plastic case aside. she blew into the little metal end of the drive,getting any debris out, before slotting it into the front of her computer. she wasn’t great withcomputers, but she could navigate them. you couldn’t do anything in mechanical without submittinga claim, a report, a request, or some other piece of nonsense. and they were handy for logging in topumps and relays remotely to shut them on or off, see their diagnostics, all of that.

　　once the light on the drive winked on, she navigated to it on her screen. inside, she found a hostof folders and files; the little drive must’ve been stuffed to the brim with them. she wondered ifscottie had gotten any sleep at all the night before.

　　at the top of a list of primary folders was a file named “jules.” she clicked this one, and uppopped a short text file obviously from scottie, but noticeably unsigned:

　　j—

　　don’t get caught with this, okay? this is everything from mr. lawman’s computers, work andhome, the last five years. a ton of stuff, but wasn’t sure what you needed and this was easier toautomate.

　　keep the ties—i got plenty.

　　(and i took a cookie. hope you don’t mind.)juliette smiled. she felt like reaching out and brushing her fingers across the words, but it wasn’tpaper and wouldn’t be the same. she closed the note and deleted it, then cleared out her trash. eventhe first letter of her name up there felt like too much information.

　　she leaned away from her desk and peered into the cafeteria, which appeared dark and empty. itwas not yet five in the morning, and she would have the upper floor to herself for a while. she firsttook a moment to browse through the directory structure to see what kind of data she was dealingwith. each folder was neatly labeled. it appeared she had an operating history of holston’s twocomputers, every keystroke, every day, going back a little more than five years, all organized by dateand time. juliette felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information—it was far more than shecould hope to weed through in a lifetime.

　　but at least she had it. the answers she needed were in there, somewhere, among all those files.

　　and somehow it felt better, she felt better, just knowing that the solution to this riddle, to holston’sdecision to go to cleaning, could now fit in the palm of her hand.

　　????

　　she was several hours into sifting through the data when the cafeteria crew staggered in to cleanup last night’s mess and prepare for breakfast. one of the most difficult things to get used to about theup top was the exacting schedule everyone kept. there was no third shift. there was barely a secondshift, except for the dinner staff. in the down deep, the machines didn’t sleep, and so the workersbarely did either. work crews often stayed on into extra shifts, and juliette had gotten used tosurviving on a handful of hours of rest a night. the trick was to pass out now and then from sheerexhaustion, to just rest against a wall with one’s eyes closed for fifteen minutes, long enough to holdthe tiredness at bay.

　　but what had once been necessary for survival was now a luxury. the ability to forgo sleep gaveher time in the morning and at night to herself, time to invest in frivolous pursuits on top of the casesshe was supposed to be working. it also gave her the opportunity to teach herself how to do theblasted job, since marnes had become too depressed to help get her up to speed.

　　marnes—

　　she looked at the clock over his desk. it was ten minutes after eight, and the vats of warm oatmealand corn grits were already filling the cafeteria with the smells of breakfast. marnes was late. she’dbeen around him less than a week, but she had yet to see him late to anything, ever. this break in theroutine was like a timing belt stretching out of shape, a piston developing a knock. juliette turned hermonitor off and pushed away from her desk. outside, first-shift breakfast was beginning to file in,food tokens clinking in the large bucket by the old turnstiles. she left her office and passed throughthe traffic spilling from the stairwell. in the line, a young girl tugged on her mother’s overalls andpointed to juliette as she passed. juliette heard the mother scolding her child for being rude.

　　there had been quite a bit of chatter the past few days over her appointment, this woman who haddisappeared into mechanical as a child and who had suddenly reemerged to take over from one of themore popular sheriffs in memory. juliette cringed from the attention and hurried into the stairwell.

　　she wound her way down the steps as fast as a lightly loaded porter, her feet bouncing off each tread,faster and faster, at what felt like an unsafe pace. four flights down, after squeezing around a slowcouple and between a family heading up for breakfast, she hit the apartment landing just below herown and passed through the double doors.

　　the hallway beyond was busy with morning sights and sounds: a squealing teapot, the shrillvoices of children, the thunder of feet overhead, shadows hurrying to meet their casters beforetrailing behind them to work. younger children were lumbering reluctantly off to school; husbandsand wives kissed in doorways while toddlers tugged at their overalls and dropped toys and plasticcups.

　　juliette took several turns, winding through the hallways and around the central staircase to theother side of the level. the deputy’s apartment was on the far side, way in the back. she surmisedthat marnes had qualified for several upgrades over the years but had passed on them. the one timeshe had asked alice, mayor jahns’s old secretary, about marnes, she had shrugged and told juliettethat he had never wanted or expected anything more than second fiddle. juliette assumed she meantthat he never wanted to be sheriff, but she had begun to wonder in how many other areas of his lifethat philosophy applied.

　　as she reached his hall, two kids ran by holding hands, late for school. they giggled and squealedaround the corner, leaving juliette alone in the hallway. she wondered what she would say to marnesto justify coming down, to explain her worry. maybe now was a good time to ask for the folder thathe couldn’t seem to be without. she could tell him to take the day off, let her handle the office whilehe got some rest, or maybe fib a little and say she was already in the area for a case.

　　she stopped outside his door and lifted her hand to knock. hopefully he wouldn’t see this as herprojecting authority. she was just concerned for him. that was all.

　　she rapped on the steel door and waited for him to call her inside—and maybe he did. his voiceover the last few days had eroded into a dull and thin rasp. she knocked again, louder this time.

　　“deputy?” she called. “everything okay in there?”

　　a woman popped her head out of a door down the hallway. juliette recognized her from schoolrecess time in the cafeteria, was pretty sure her name was gloria.

　　“hey, sheriff.”

　　“hey, gloria, you haven’t seen deputy marnes this morning, have you?”

　　she shook her head, placed a metal rod in her mouth, and started wrapping her long hair into abun. “i haben’t,” she mumbled. she shrugged her shoulders and jabbed the rod through her bun,locking her hair into place. “he was on the landing last night, looking as whipped as ever.” shefrowned. “he not show up for work?”

　　juliette turned back to the door and tried the handle. it clicked open with the feel of a well-maintained lock. she pushed the door in. “deputy? it’s jules. just checkin’ in on ya.”

　　the door swung open into the darkness. the only light spilling in was from the hallway, but it wasenough.

　　juliette turned to gloria. “call doc hicks— no, shit …” she was still thinking down deep.

　　“who’s the closest doctor up here? call him!”

　　she ran into the room, not waiting for a reply. there wasn’t much space to hang oneself in thesmall apartment, but marnes had figured out how. his belt was cinched around his neck, the bucklelodged into the top of the bathroom door. his feet were on the bed, but at a right angle, not enough tosupport his weight. his butt drooped below his feet, his face no longer red, the belt biting deep intohis neck.

　　juliette hugged marnes’s waist and lifted him up. he was heavier than he looked. she kicked hisfeet off the bed, and they flopped to the floor, making it easier to hold him. there was a curse at thedoor. gloria’s husband ran in and helped juliette support the deputy’s weight. both of them fumbledfor the belt, trying to dislodge it from the door. juliette finally tugged the door open, freeing him.

　　“on the bed,” she huffed.

　　they lifted him to the bed and laid him out flat.

　　gloria’s husband rested his hands on his knees and took deep breaths. “gloria ran for doctoro’neil.”

　　juliette nodded and loosened the belt from around marnes’s neck. the flesh was purple beneath it.

　　she felt for a pulse, remembering george looking just like this when she’d found him down inmechanical, completely still and unresponsive. it took her a moment to be sure that she was lookingat the second dead body she had ever seen.

　　and then she wondered, as she sat back, sweating, waiting for the doctor to arrive, whether thisjob she had taken would ensure it wasn’t the last.