Read Online Dead Winter by William G. Tapply - Free Book Online Page A

might’ve said before you got to the boat. Or when he drove you back to your car.”
    She squinted at me. “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Coyne.”
    “You’re one step ahead of me, then.”
    She smiled quickly. “You think Marc killed Maggie and then called me up so he could pretend to find her body. Then I’d be his whatchacallit, his alibi. Right?”
    “The thought occurred to me, yes.”
    “Well, he’d have to of killed her before nine thirty. They can figure that out, can’t they?”
    “I think so. I’ll check.”
    “Look. I mean, I’m worried for Marc’s sake and all that. But I gotta tell you, I’m more worried about me. You seem like a nice guy. You make me feel like I can trust you.” She shook her head slowly. “If I can’t—I mean, if you’re going to tell people what I just told you—you gotta know that I’m like dead. Really.”
    “They haven’t arrested Marc. I suppose they may suspect him. But I know that Marc doesn’t want you involved. If he didn’t do it, then they’ll have no evidence that would justify their arresting him. In which case, he won’t need you.”
    She nodded. “And if he did do it, then I won’t be able to help him anyway.”
    I knew it wasn’t that simple, but I saw no point in adding to this young woman’s problems. “That’s about it,” I said. I extracted a dollar bill from my wallet and put it at my place at the table. Then I pushed myself back and stood up. “We both have to get to work. I appreciate your honesty.” I held my hand to her.
    She grasped it. “I told you the truth. I really did. I just hope…”
    “Don’t worry.”
    “I mean, if it comes to it, I’d have to say what happened. I realize that. It would only wreck my life.” She tried to smile. “What the hell. It’s a mess already.”
    On my way out of the restaurant I had to step over the outthrust ankles of a big blond guy who was leaning back with his elbows propped on the bar. He made no effort to move, and as I went past him I could sense his eyes following me. When I stepped outside from the dim interior of the restaurant into the bright noonday sunshine, I paused to squint. A voice behind me said, “So whadda ya think you’re up to, pal?”
    I turned. It was the blond man. He wore a grease-spotted T-shirt that stretched taut across his chest. It failed to meet the belt of his jeans, revealing an expanse of pink hairless flab. His beefy face was red. His little pig eyes slitted narrowly. The side of his mouth turned down in an ugly sneer.
    I looked him up and down. “What’s it to you?” Lightning quick with the wisecrack. That’s me.
    “You hittin’ on my old lady in there. I wanna know who the fuck you are.”
    “My name is Coyne, sir,” I said, realizing that this was Andy’s husband, Al, and my responsibility was to protect her. “I sell insurance. Disability insurance. Everybody who works should have disability insurance. It’s important for restaurant personnel. All sorts of accidents can befall a restaurant employee. Disability insurance is especially important for unsalaried workers. You,” I added, smiling at him, “should have disability insurance. Do you have a good plan, sir?”
    “I don’t need no disa-fuckin’-bility insurance, friend, and neither does my wife.”
    “Oh, everybody does. You sure I can’t interest you—?”
    I saw it coming, a straight-armed club with a fist the size of a cantaloupe on the end of it. My brain gauged distance and velocity and instructed my body to dodge and my chin to tuck under the protection of my shoulder. Al’s blow exploded high on the side of my head, and as I staggered and fell backwards, I thought sadly how when I was younger I could have slipped that crude, amateur attack.
    Instinctively I rolled into a fetal position. He kicked wildly at me, but I was moving and he missed. He fell on me, flailing with the sides of his fists. I tried to rise onto hands and knees but his body pressed on me,