Bogeyman. Gayle Wilson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to work. When he stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was at least ten degrees warmer than it had been when he’d entered. He grabbed the towel he’d taken from the shelf, using it first to dry his hair and then his body.

      When he was finished, he wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door. Steam wafted out into the cooler hall as he headed toward his bedroom.

      Left hand on the top of the chest, he fished a pair of clean pajama bottoms out of the second drawer. He sat down on the end of the bed, which was made—the last time it would be until Maria showed up again next week—and put them on.

      He stood, pulling the pajamas up to his waist. He went back to the chest of drawers for a clean T-shirt. Now all he needed were the aspirin and something to eat.

      

      Two packets of powdered aspirin, a product everyone in the department swore by, had begun to make inroads on his headache by the time the microwave sounded. Ignoring the baleful light of the answering machine, he carried his dinner, still in its black plastic tray, along with a fork into the den.

      He sat down on the couch, putting his food on the coffee table in front of him. Despite the tempting aromas of meat loaf, potatoes and gravy, he used the remote to turn on the TV.

      He wolfed down the contents of the plastic tray, almost without looking at them, while he watched a rain-fogged video of the wreck his men had worked. When the local news cut to commercials, he glanced back into the kitchen.

      The unanswered phone call would nag at him until he’d returned it. When he had, and had made a final check-in with the department’s dispatcher, he could crawl into bed and forget about the needs of the citizens of Davis County until the phone—or better yet, the alarm—woke him.

      He pushed up from the deep cushions of the couch and made his way back to the kitchen counter. He listened to the message again, before he glanced down at his watch.

      Decision made, he called up the number on caller ID and then pushed Talk. He listened to the electronic beeps, trying to decide what he was going to say this time.

      “Hey, Cade,” Teresa said. “I was afraid you were still out working that mess on 65.”

      “Got in about half an hour ago. The state finally decided that whatever the guy was hauling, it wasn’t a public threat.”

      “That’s good to know. Hope you all don’t catch pneumonia from standing out in this rain.”

      “Yeah, me, too.” He leaned against the cabinet, allowing the silence to lengthen.

      Nothing was going to change. He was only delaying the inevitable. He might as well get this over with so he could go to bed.

      “About tomorrow night…” he began and then hesitated.

      This whole thing was his fault, and he knew it. He should never have opened the door even the crack he’d allowed. When it had started, he hadn’t seen the harm in their friendship. By the time he did, it was too late.

      Teresa laughed. The sound was soft, but its bitterness apparent. “I can hear it coming.”

      “Hear what coming?”

      “Whatever you’ve got on. You’re either working. Or you’ve promised somebody you’ll do something for them. Or help them do something.”

      “Teresa—”

      “And that isn’t ever going to change, is it? Why don’t you just tell me to quit bothering you?”

      “You aren’t bothering me.”

      “Oh, hell, Cade. Don’t lie. That just makes it worse.”

      “Look, why don’t we—”

      “No. No pity arrangements. You and I are a little old for those kinds of games.”

      There was nothing he could say to that. She was right. They were both too old for games. He had been for five years. Ever since Jean had walked out on him.

      “I don’t blame you,” she said, speaking quickly now. “I just thought that maybe…I don’t know. There aren’t that many singles our age in Crenshaw. I just thought we had a lot in common. At least I hoped we did.”

      They did. More than Cade and his ex-wife had ever had.

      And look how well that worked out.

      At least he and Teresa had had the same upbringing, right here in Davis County. And like him, she wasn’t interested in living anywhere else.

      Despite knowing that, there was nothing there. No spark of interest. Not on his part. Knowing himself as he did, he knew there would never be.

      He resisted the urge to offer more platitudes. The quicker they got through this, the less painful it would be. For both of them.

      “I guess I was wrong,” she added.

      “I’m sorry.” Despite his intentions, the apology slipped had out.

      He hadn’t meant to hurt her. The fact that he wasn’t interested in a relationship didn’t have anything to do with Teresa. Maybe if he told her that…

      “It isn’t you.”

      “Oh, Lord, Cade. At least spare me the crap.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “And for God’s sake, stop saying that.”

      He obeyed, willing himself not to prolong this. Again the silence grew.

      “You’re a good man, Cade Jackson,” Teresa said finally. “Even if you aren’t, and won’t ever be, my man. You don’t owe me any explanations, so don’t bother trying to think them up. Just…If you ever change your mind…”

      He waited, lips pressed together. She never finished the sentence. Instead, there was a low click and then the dial tone in his ear.

      After a moment he put the receiver back on the stand, stopping the sound. Despite his exhaustion, despite the promise he’d made to himself, he didn’t move. Not to cut off the light or to head to bed.

      You and I are a little old for those kinds of games. That went along with what he’d been thinking when he’d looked into the mirror tonight. Thirty-seven going on a hundred.

      In every way that mattered, Teresa Payne was far too young for him. And he no longer believed he was ever going to find someone who wasn’t.

      

      She had been right last night, Blythe realized. There was no overhanging branch up there. No shutter. And absolutely nothing to bang against that window.

      “What are you looking at?”

      Blythe turned to find Maddie standing at her elbow, blue eyes shifting from her face up to the bedroom window. The little girl was wearing only her nightgown. Although it was made of thick flannel, with long sleeves and a deep flounce, long enough to brush the winter-browned grass, it СКАЧАТЬ