JК
The Laughing Corpse :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 136 из 213"
"And I shoved a gun into his groin and made him tell me everything he knew," I said.
Jean-Claude smiled. "You did what?"
"I shoved a gun into his balls, alright?"
His eyes started to sparkle. Laughter spread across his face and burst out between his lips. He laughed full-throated.
The laugh was like candy: sweet, and infectious. If you could bottle Jean-Claude's laugh, I know it would be fattening. Or orgasmic.
"Ma petite, ma petite, you are absolutely marvelous."
I stared at him, letting that wonderful, touchable laugh roll around me. It was time to go. It is very hard to be dignified when someone is laughing uproariously at you. But I managed.
My parting shot made him laugh harder. "Stop calling me ma petite."
22
I stepped back out into the noise of the club. Charles was standing beside the table, not sitting. He looked uncomfortable from a distance. What had gone wrong now?
His big hands were twisted together. Dark face scrunched up into near pain. A kind God had made Charles look big and bad, because inside he was all marshmallow. If I'd had Charles's natural size and strength, I'd have been a guaranteed bad ass. It was sort of sad and unfair.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I called Caroline," he said.
"And?"
"The baby-sitter's sick. And Caroline's been called in to the hospital. Someone has to stay with Sam while she goes to work."
"Mm-huh," I said.
He didn't look the least bit tough when he said, "Can going down to the Tenderloin wait until tomorrow?"
I shook my head.
"You're not going to go down there alone," Charles said. "Are you?"
I stared up at the great mountain of a man, and sighed. "I can't wait, Charles."
"But the Tenderloin." He lowered his voice as if just saying the word too loud would bring a cloud of pimps and prostitutes to descend upon us. "You can't go down there alone at night."
"I've gone worse places, Charles. I'll be all right."
"No, I won't let you go alone. Caroline can just get a new sitter or tell the hospital no." He smiled when he said it. Always happy to help a friend. Caroline would give him hell for it. Worst of all, now I didn't want to take Charles with me. You had to do more than look tough.
What if Gaynor got wind of me questioning Wanda? What if he found Charles and thought he was involved? No. It had been selfish to risk Charles. He had a four-year-old son. And a wife.
Harold Gaynor would eat Charles raw for dinner. I couldn't involve him.
"And I shoved a gun into his groin and made him tell me everything he knew," I said.
Jean-Claude smiled. "You did what?"
"I shoved a gun into his balls, alright?"
His eyes started to sparkle. Laughter spread across his face and burst out between his lips. He laughed full-throated.
The laugh was like candy: sweet, and infectious. If you could bottle Jean-Claude's laugh, I know it would be fattening. Or orgasmic.
"Ma petite, ma petite, you are absolutely marvelous."
I stared at him, letting that wonderful, touchable laugh roll around me. It was time to go. It is very hard to be dignified when someone is laughing uproariously at you. But I managed.
My parting shot made him laugh harder. "Stop calling me ma petite."
22
I stepped back out into the noise of the club. Charles was standing beside the table, not sitting. He looked uncomfortable from a distance. What had gone wrong now?
His big hands were twisted together. Dark face scrunched up into near pain. A kind God had made Charles look big and bad, because inside he was all marshmallow. If I'd had Charles's natural size and strength, I'd have been a guaranteed bad ass. It was sort of sad and unfair.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I called Caroline," he said.
"And?"
"The baby-sitter's sick. And Caroline's been called in to the hospital. Someone has to stay with Sam while she goes to work."
"Mm-huh," I said.
He didn't look the least bit tough when he said, "Can going down to the Tenderloin wait until tomorrow?"
I shook my head.
"You're not going to go down there alone," Charles said. "Are you?"
I stared up at the great mountain of a man, and sighed. "I can't wait, Charles."
"But the Tenderloin." He lowered his voice as if just saying the word too loud would bring a cloud of pimps and prostitutes to descend upon us. "You can't go down there alone at night."
"I've gone worse places, Charles. I'll be all right."
"No, I won't let you go alone. Caroline can just get a new sitter or tell the hospital no." He smiled when he said it. Always happy to help a friend. Caroline would give him hell for it. Worst of all, now I didn't want to take Charles with me. You had to do more than look tough.
What if Gaynor got wind of me questioning Wanda? What if he found Charles and thought he was involved? No. It had been selfish to risk Charles. He had a four-year-old son. And a wife.
Harold Gaynor would eat Charles raw for dinner. I couldn't involve him.