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.He collected information, his sharp eyes seeing things that others missed.Tonight, he was drunk.“Go home.Come back tomorrow.We’ll both enjoy it more.”“Goin’ home wasn’t in my plan.” His gaze narrowed.“You don’t look busy right now.Maybe you got plans for later on?”She sighed, calculating.It would be easier to take the ten minutes necessary to service him, but something in her rebelled.“My plans are none of your concern, cher.Go home and come back tomorrow.” She forced a smile.“I’m tired, Praytor.I want to give you full service, and I can’t tonight.” She touched her head.“My head is pounding.”He stood there, staring at her, and she felt a tingle of warning glide over her skin like the lightest silk.Praytor had always reminded her of an insect, something that waited in a dark crevice to trap and devour other, weaker species.“You refusin’ me?”She swallowed.“Only for tonight.Come back tomorrow.” And when his car pulled up, she’d lock her door and refuse to answer it.She moved forward to the door, determined to show him she wasn’t afraid.“I’m tired, cher.My head aches.Tomorrow we’ll have some fun.”She looked past him and felt something inside her chest grip.Someone—or something—was hiding behind the oak tree beside the road.“What?” Praytor read the expression on her face and turned to look.“Who’s out there?”“Someone.” Florence found her voice was breathy with fear.“There’s someone behind that tree.”“Someone spyin’.” Praytor’s voice was edged with anger.“I’ll drag ’em out and teach ’em not to be spyin’ on me.” He stumbled down the steps and lurched across the yard toward the big oak.Something big took off running, moving fast.Florence heard the small cry of fear that escaped from her as she watched the shadowy figure disappear into the trees across the road.She couldn’t be certain what she’d seen—a person or some type of large animal.The night was too dark for details.“Hey! Hey, you, come back here!” Praytor charged into the road, stumbling.She heard the sound of a car, and saw, too late, the headlights of a vehicle coming fast down the road.Praytor was illuminated in the vehicle’s lamps, his face showing horror.The driver stepped hard on the brake, swerving at the last instant, so that the car careened through the woods across the street, the headlights bouncing up and down as the car bumped over ruts and shrubs.Florence recognized the car.She ran past Praytor without a glance and into the woods where the car had come to a stop.“Raymond,” she said, pulling the driver’s door open.“Raymond.” He sat behind the wheel, still gripping it.“Raymond.” She thought her chest would explode with her fear.“Can you hear me? Can you move?” She thought of the metal in his back and the things he’d never told her but that everyone else in town repeated—one day the shrapnel would shift and his spinal cord would be severed.“I’m okay,” he said at last.“Who was that idiot standing in the road?”She couldn’t stop the trembling.When she touched his shoulder she felt the solid muscle, the warmth, and she felt tears form in her eyes and fall down her cheeks.“Praytor.He’s drunk.”“He’s going to be dead when I get out of here.”Raymond shifted and slowly moved his feet from the floorboard to the ground.He stood, moving carefully as if he, too, wasn’t certain that something hadn’t changed.She wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him, to attach herself in a way that she could make certain he wasn’t hurt.She stepped back, though, and let him lead the way to the road where Praytor sat in the ditch, the smell of vomit strong around him.“Praytor, I’m going to kick the shit out of you to the point there won’t be anything left but empty boots.” Raymond staggered slightly.Florence held back, forced to watch the scene between the two men play out, helpless to stop whatever was going to happen.She didn’t care about Praytor.Raymond, though, was another matter, and Praytor Bless was known to carry a knife and fight dirty.Praytor’s response was another stream of vomit.“Shit.” Raymond shook his head.“You aren’t worth the effort.” He turned, looking from Florence to the headlamps of the car still shining into the woods.He stepped toward Florence, and she felt a smile touch the corners of her lips.She moved to meet him when the sound of another car echoed on the empty night air.She saw headlights, and then the car slowed and stopped.Chula Baker jumped from the passenger side of the car.“Raymond, I’ve been hunting for you everywhere.” She ran toward the deputy as a tall, handsome man in slacks and a jacket got out from behind the wheel of the polished Studebaker.He stood by the car, watching but not interfering.Chula took a deep breath.“We saw something in Mrs.McLemore’s yard.Something strange.I finally tracked down Sheriff Joe, and he told me to find you.”Raymond stood taller.“What did you see?”Chula’s laugh was nervous, and Florence assessed her.Chula Baker was disliked by the town because she didn’t act womanish.Talk was that she’d acquired book learning and lost her femininity.Uglier talk implied that Chula and her employee, Claudia Breck, were une gouine [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]