Bloodfever
Page 14
I stared dismally at my hands, folded neatly in my lap. I badly needed a manicure. I tried to imagine what the wife of an officer whod died mere hours after visiting a pretty young woman, and was given the inane reason for the visit I was offering, would think and feel. Shed know she was being lied to, and the unknown always takes on greater, more terrible proportions than whatever truth is concealed behind the lie. Would she believe, as her brother did, that her beloved Patty had cheated on her and betrayed their marriage vows the morning hed died?
I never used to lie. Mom raised us to believe that every lie puts something out there in the world thats inevitably going to come back and bite you in the petunia. I cant explain Inspector ODuffys actions. I can only tell you what he did. He came by to tell me Alinas case was staying closed. Thats all I know.
I drew comfort from the fact that if I came clean and told him everything, confessed every bit of it, down to my suspicion that ODuffy had somehow learned that something big, nasty, and not human had moved into Dublin, and been killed because of it, hed believe me even less.
The afternoon was endless: Who owns the bookstore? How did you say you met him? Why are you staying there? Is he your lover? If her case is closed, why havent you gone home? How did you get those bruises on your face? Are you working somewhere? How are you supporting yourself? When do you plan to go home? Do you know anything about the three abandoned cars in the back alley behind Barrons Books and Baubles?
The whole time, I waited for Barrons to come and rescue me, the product, I suppose, of growing up in a world where nearly all the fairy tales Id heard as a child had a prince rushing to the rescue of the princess. Men down south love to play up to that image.
Its a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: Its every princess for herself.
It was five-forty-five before they finally let me go.
ODuffys brother-in-law escorted me to the door. Im going to be watching you, Ms. Lane. Every time you turn around, its my face youre going to see. Im going to be tape to your ass.
Fine, I said tiredly. Can I get a ride back to the bookstore?
Okay, that was a no.
How about the phone? Can I use it? He gave me another hard look. Are you kidding me? You guys wouldnt let me get my purse this morning. I dont have money for a cab. What if somebody out there mugs me?
Inspector Jayne was already walking away. You dont have a purse, Ms. Lane. What would somebody mug you for? he tossed over his shoulder.
I glanced uneasily at my watch. When theyd picked me up at the bookstore, theyd made me remove the flashlights from the waistband of my jeans and leave them with Fiona.
Thunderrumbled, vibrating the glass panes in the windows.
It was going to be dark soon.
Hey! You there, wait up!
I didnt break stride.
Beautiful girl, wait a minute! I was hoping Id see you again!
It was the beautiful girl part that flung a noose around my foot, the voice that snagged it tight. I raked a hand through my recently butchered hair and looked down at my dark, baggy clothes. The compliment was balm to my soul, the voice young, male, and full of fun. I skidded to a halt. Shallow, I know.
It was the dreamy-eyed guy Id seen in the museum the day Id been searching it for OOPs.
I turned bright red. That was the day Vlane had amped up the death-by-sex thing and Id stripped in the middle of Irelands famous r exhibit, right there in front of God and everybody.
Flushing, I sprinted off again, splashing through puddles. It was rainingof frogging courseand the sidewalks of Dublins craic-filled Temple Bar District were nearly empty. I had places to go, darkness to race, guys whod watched me strip to avoid.
He dropped into a long-legged lope beside me and I couldnt help myself, I slanted a look at him. Tall, dark, dreamy-eyed, he was boy-on-the-cusp-of-man, in that perfect stage where guys are velvet skin over supple hard bodies, without an ounce of fat. Id bet he had a six-pack. He was a serious leftie. Once upon a time in my life, Id have given my eyeteeth for a date with him. Id have dressed in pink and gold, swept my long blond hair up in a playful ponytail, and painted my nails and toes to match, Young-Hearts-Beat-Free-Tonight Blush.
Fine, Ill run with you then, he said easily. Where you off to in such a hurry?
None of your business. Go away, pretty boy. You dont fit in my world anymore. How I wished he did.
I was afraid I wouldnt see you again.
You dont even know me. Besides, Im sure you saw more than enough of me at the museum, I said bitterly.
What do you mean?
You know.
He shot me a quizzical look. All I know is I had to leave right after I saw you. I had to go to work.
He hadnt watched me strip? Some of the ugliness of my life melted away. Where do you work?
Ancient Languages Department.
Where? Hunky and smart.
Trinity.
Cool. Student?
Yeah. You?
I shook my head.
American?
I nodded. You? He didnt sound Irish.
Little of this, little of that. Nothing special. He smiled and winked. Dreamy eyes, long dark lashes.
I never used to lie. Mom raised us to believe that every lie puts something out there in the world thats inevitably going to come back and bite you in the petunia. I cant explain Inspector ODuffys actions. I can only tell you what he did. He came by to tell me Alinas case was staying closed. Thats all I know.
I drew comfort from the fact that if I came clean and told him everything, confessed every bit of it, down to my suspicion that ODuffy had somehow learned that something big, nasty, and not human had moved into Dublin, and been killed because of it, hed believe me even less.
The afternoon was endless: Who owns the bookstore? How did you say you met him? Why are you staying there? Is he your lover? If her case is closed, why havent you gone home? How did you get those bruises on your face? Are you working somewhere? How are you supporting yourself? When do you plan to go home? Do you know anything about the three abandoned cars in the back alley behind Barrons Books and Baubles?
The whole time, I waited for Barrons to come and rescue me, the product, I suppose, of growing up in a world where nearly all the fairy tales Id heard as a child had a prince rushing to the rescue of the princess. Men down south love to play up to that image.
Its a strange new world out there and the rules have changed: Its every princess for herself.
It was five-forty-five before they finally let me go.
ODuffys brother-in-law escorted me to the door. Im going to be watching you, Ms. Lane. Every time you turn around, its my face youre going to see. Im going to be tape to your ass.
Fine, I said tiredly. Can I get a ride back to the bookstore?
Okay, that was a no.
How about the phone? Can I use it? He gave me another hard look. Are you kidding me? You guys wouldnt let me get my purse this morning. I dont have money for a cab. What if somebody out there mugs me?
Inspector Jayne was already walking away. You dont have a purse, Ms. Lane. What would somebody mug you for? he tossed over his shoulder.
I glanced uneasily at my watch. When theyd picked me up at the bookstore, theyd made me remove the flashlights from the waistband of my jeans and leave them with Fiona.
Thunderrumbled, vibrating the glass panes in the windows.
It was going to be dark soon.
Hey! You there, wait up!
I didnt break stride.
Beautiful girl, wait a minute! I was hoping Id see you again!
It was the beautiful girl part that flung a noose around my foot, the voice that snagged it tight. I raked a hand through my recently butchered hair and looked down at my dark, baggy clothes. The compliment was balm to my soul, the voice young, male, and full of fun. I skidded to a halt. Shallow, I know.
It was the dreamy-eyed guy Id seen in the museum the day Id been searching it for OOPs.
I turned bright red. That was the day Vlane had amped up the death-by-sex thing and Id stripped in the middle of Irelands famous r exhibit, right there in front of God and everybody.
Flushing, I sprinted off again, splashing through puddles. It was rainingof frogging courseand the sidewalks of Dublins craic-filled Temple Bar District were nearly empty. I had places to go, darkness to race, guys whod watched me strip to avoid.
He dropped into a long-legged lope beside me and I couldnt help myself, I slanted a look at him. Tall, dark, dreamy-eyed, he was boy-on-the-cusp-of-man, in that perfect stage where guys are velvet skin over supple hard bodies, without an ounce of fat. Id bet he had a six-pack. He was a serious leftie. Once upon a time in my life, Id have given my eyeteeth for a date with him. Id have dressed in pink and gold, swept my long blond hair up in a playful ponytail, and painted my nails and toes to match, Young-Hearts-Beat-Free-Tonight Blush.
Fine, Ill run with you then, he said easily. Where you off to in such a hurry?
None of your business. Go away, pretty boy. You dont fit in my world anymore. How I wished he did.
I was afraid I wouldnt see you again.
You dont even know me. Besides, Im sure you saw more than enough of me at the museum, I said bitterly.
What do you mean?
You know.
He shot me a quizzical look. All I know is I had to leave right after I saw you. I had to go to work.
He hadnt watched me strip? Some of the ugliness of my life melted away. Where do you work?
Ancient Languages Department.
Where? Hunky and smart.
Trinity.
Cool. Student?
Yeah. You?
I shook my head.
American?
I nodded. You? He didnt sound Irish.
Little of this, little of that. Nothing special. He smiled and winked. Dreamy eyes, long dark lashes.
