JК
Incubus Dreams :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 591 из 605“What are you talking about? Why should Jean-Claude care about how I clean up?”
The phone rang. I jumped like I’d been stabbed. I said what I was thinking. “If it’s another murder scene tonight, I can’t do it.” Even saying it, I knew I’d do it. If they needed me, I’d go. But what I’d said was true, I’d go, but I wasn’t sure I could handle it tonight.
Admitting that even to myself scared me. It was my job. I had to be able to do it.
Micah went for the phone, while I stood in the darkened living room and prayed for it not to be the police. He called, “It’s Jean-Claude.”
“Why is he calling on the phone?”
“Come and find out,” Micah said.
I walked to the lights of the kitchen. It was only the lights over the sink, not that much light, but I blinked like a deer in headlights. I took the receiver from Micah, while he tried not to give me worried eyes. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Ma petite, how do you feel?”
His voice was the joy for me it usually was, but tonight even that voice left me flat and empty. “Like shit, why?”
“How long has it been since you fed?”
I leaned my forehead against the wall and closed my eyes. “I ate some peanuts and chips in the last day, why?” Nathaniel had put some munchies in my glove compartment.
“I am not referring to food, ma petite. ”
Suddenly the emptiness spilled away, replaced by panic. “Jesus, Damian.”
“He is well. I have seen to it.”
“How can he be well, he started to die if I went just a few hours over six. I’ve gone almost twenty-four hours. God, I cannot believe this, so stupid.”
“And when in the last twenty-four hours could you have fed theardeur, and who on?”
The question stopped the self-recriminations and helped me think.
I guess there were worse things than forgetting about theardeur during a police investigation. Like maybe, not forgetting theardeur during a police investigation. Several horrible scenarios went through my head, like theardeur rising in the van with Mobile Reserve, or Zerbrowski in his car. I was suddenly cold, and it had nothing to do with my earlier pangs of conscience.
“Ma petite, I can hear your sweet breath, but I need to hear your sweet voice.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, how did you keep it from getting me?”
“By shielding in every way between us, and Richard, and helping the others do so, as well.”
“That’s why you’re calling me on the phone, not mind-to-mind.”
“Oui.
The phone rang. I jumped like I’d been stabbed. I said what I was thinking. “If it’s another murder scene tonight, I can’t do it.” Even saying it, I knew I’d do it. If they needed me, I’d go. But what I’d said was true, I’d go, but I wasn’t sure I could handle it tonight.
Admitting that even to myself scared me. It was my job. I had to be able to do it.
Micah went for the phone, while I stood in the darkened living room and prayed for it not to be the police. He called, “It’s Jean-Claude.”
“Why is he calling on the phone?”
“Come and find out,” Micah said.
I walked to the lights of the kitchen. It was only the lights over the sink, not that much light, but I blinked like a deer in headlights. I took the receiver from Micah, while he tried not to give me worried eyes. “What’s up?” I asked.
“Ma petite, how do you feel?”
His voice was the joy for me it usually was, but tonight even that voice left me flat and empty. “Like shit, why?”
“How long has it been since you fed?”
I leaned my forehead against the wall and closed my eyes. “I ate some peanuts and chips in the last day, why?” Nathaniel had put some munchies in my glove compartment.
“I am not referring to food, ma petite. ”
Suddenly the emptiness spilled away, replaced by panic. “Jesus, Damian.”
“He is well. I have seen to it.”
“How can he be well, he started to die if I went just a few hours over six. I’ve gone almost twenty-four hours. God, I cannot believe this, so stupid.”
“And when in the last twenty-four hours could you have fed theardeur, and who on?”
The question stopped the self-recriminations and helped me think.
I guess there were worse things than forgetting about theardeur during a police investigation. Like maybe, not forgetting theardeur during a police investigation. Several horrible scenarios went through my head, like theardeur rising in the van with Mobile Reserve, or Zerbrowski in his car. I was suddenly cold, and it had nothing to do with my earlier pangs of conscience.
“Ma petite, I can hear your sweet breath, but I need to hear your sweet voice.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, how did you keep it from getting me?”
“By shielding in every way between us, and Richard, and helping the others do so, as well.”
“That’s why you’re calling me on the phone, not mind-to-mind.”
“Oui.