JК
The Lunatic Cafe :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 16 из 234It tightened my shoulders, made my arms ache. But I knew better. You don't volunteer for slugfests with vampires. It shortens your life expectancy.
I walked up very close to Jean-Claude, bodies nearly touching. I stared him in the nose, which ruined some of the effect, but his eyes were drowning pools and I knew better.
"I hate you." My voice was flat with the effort not to scream. In that moment I meant it. And I knew Jean-Claude would sense it. I wanted him to know.
" ma petite . ."
"No, you've done enough talking. It's my turn. If you harm Richard Zeeman, I'll kill you."
"He means that much to you?" There was surprise in his voice. Great.
"No, you mean that little." I stepped away from him, around him. Gave him my back and walked away. Let him sink his fangs into that bit of truth. Tonight, I meant every word.
5
The number on my beeper was the car phone of Detective Sergeant Rudolf Storr. A Christmas present from his wife last year. I'd sent her a thank-you note. Police radio made everything sound like a foreign language. Dolph picked up on the fifth ring. I knew he'd get to it eventually.
"Anita."
"What if I'd been your wife?" I asked.
"She'd know I was working."
I let it go. Not every wife would appreciate her husband answering the phone with another woman's name. Maybe Lucille was different.
"What's up, Dolph? This was supposed to be my night off."
"Sorry the murderer didn't know that. If you're too busy, we'll muddle through without you."
"What's got your panties in a twist?"
I was rewarded with a small sound that might have been a laugh. "Not your fault. We're out towards Six Flags on Forty-four."
"Where exactly on Forty-four?"
"Out near the Audubon Nature Center. How soon can you get here?"
"Problem, I don't know where the hell you are. How do I get to the nature center?"
"It's across the road from the St. Ambrose Monastery."
"Don't know it," I said.
He sighed. "Hell, we're out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Those are the only landmarks."
"Just give me directions. I'll find it."
He gave me directions. There were too many of them, and I didn't have pen and paper. "Hold on, I've got to get something to write with." I laid the phone down and snatched a napkin from the concession area. I begged a pen from an older couple. The man was wearing a cashmere overcoat. The woman wore real diamonds. The pen was engraved, and might have been real gold. He did not make me promise to bring it back.
I walked up very close to Jean-Claude, bodies nearly touching. I stared him in the nose, which ruined some of the effect, but his eyes were drowning pools and I knew better.
"I hate you." My voice was flat with the effort not to scream. In that moment I meant it. And I knew Jean-Claude would sense it. I wanted him to know.
" ma petite . ."
"No, you've done enough talking. It's my turn. If you harm Richard Zeeman, I'll kill you."
"He means that much to you?" There was surprise in his voice. Great.
"No, you mean that little." I stepped away from him, around him. Gave him my back and walked away. Let him sink his fangs into that bit of truth. Tonight, I meant every word.
5
The number on my beeper was the car phone of Detective Sergeant Rudolf Storr. A Christmas present from his wife last year. I'd sent her a thank-you note. Police radio made everything sound like a foreign language. Dolph picked up on the fifth ring. I knew he'd get to it eventually.
"Anita."
"What if I'd been your wife?" I asked.
"She'd know I was working."
I let it go. Not every wife would appreciate her husband answering the phone with another woman's name. Maybe Lucille was different.
"What's up, Dolph? This was supposed to be my night off."
"Sorry the murderer didn't know that. If you're too busy, we'll muddle through without you."
"What's got your panties in a twist?"
I was rewarded with a small sound that might have been a laugh. "Not your fault. We're out towards Six Flags on Forty-four."
"Where exactly on Forty-four?"
"Out near the Audubon Nature Center. How soon can you get here?"
"Problem, I don't know where the hell you are. How do I get to the nature center?"
"It's across the road from the St. Ambrose Monastery."
"Don't know it," I said.
He sighed. "Hell, we're out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Those are the only landmarks."
"Just give me directions. I'll find it."
He gave me directions. There were too many of them, and I didn't have pen and paper. "Hold on, I've got to get something to write with." I laid the phone down and snatched a napkin from the concession area. I begged a pen from an older couple. The man was wearing a cashmere overcoat. The woman wore real diamonds. The pen was engraved, and might have been real gold. He did not make me promise to bring it back.