Read Online Lark by Richard; Forrest - Free Book Online Page A

get worse?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOh. Uh, then see you tomorrow.” Grossman turned and hurried through the door and down the hall.
    The familiar pulse of the building surrounded Lark. A distant typewriter plocked , and an occasional loud laugh issued from the squad room. A mop squished as maintenance worked on the hallways. It was a familiar, usually comfortable pattern that now seemed uncaring in the light of what he had just heard.
    He shook his head to dispel the demons and then searched through a bottom desk drawer for an evidence bag. He carefully bagged the wrapping paper used to mail the cassette and placed the evidence carefully on the desk.
    There were other things to do, many other things, and he tried to order his priorities. Distasteful as it was, he would have to listen to the tape again and make notes. Tomorrow it would have to be transcribed into a verbatim account. Who would get that unpleasant task? He’d let Frank decide.
    He rewound the tape and replaced the earphone in his ear. His index finger hovered over the PLAY button. He couldn’t do it. Not again tonight.
    He locked the tape and recorder in his desk and went home.
    He saw her car parked by his trailer as he pulled into the parking lot by the side of the Milligan Machine Company. He parked parallel to her car and hastily circled the factory on his security round. He wished she hadn’t come. He really wasn’t in the mood for any company.
    Dark clouds scudded across the sky as if fleeing from a partial moon and a cool wind, dank from its sweep down the river, raised goose bumps on his arms.
    Faby Winn poked her head out the door as he approached. “I don’t hear any ‘hi-ho hi-ho’ as we return to the little house in the dark wood.”
    â€œFuck you.” He slammed into the trailer and went for the refrigerator. He saw a new bottle of wine open on the table.
    â€œMy, we’re our usual sweet self tonight.”
    â€œIf your cuteness factor rises another inch, out you go.”
    Her voice dropped in irritation. “Feet or head first, Lark?”
    She had bought a six-pack of German beer and nestled it against his hamburger. He liked it, but considered it too expensive. He took a bottle from the carton, flipped the cap off, and let it roll across the floor. “Thanks for the beer.”
    â€œYou promised me dinner, or have you forgotten?”
    â€œIt slipped my mind.”
    â€œWe can get takeout Chinese.”
    He shrugged, sat down, and plopped his feet on the coffee table. He drained half the beer. “Whatever.”
    â€œCathy called me today. She’s upset that you never sent this week’s check.”
    â€œI told her I wouldn’t.”
    Faby nodded and sipped wine. “She suspected as much. She’s taken a job at the Seven-Eleven on Grove Street.”
    â€œAbout time she got off her ass.”
    â€œGive the girl a chance, Lark.”
    â€œChance? She had a year to, quote, find herself, unquote. So, she’s lost in the wilderness. Let her join the rest of the human race.”
    â€œIf there’s anyone who needs to join humanity, it’s you.”
    Lark finished the remainder of his beer. “Don’t you have anyplace else to go?”
    Faby Winn jerked to her feet as a look of astonishment swept her face. “You lowdown son of a bitch,” she said in a whisper. “You arrogant pig.”
    â€œI’ve had a bad day,” Lark replied in a partial apology.
    â€œDid the big bad criminals say mean words to the poor lieutenant?”
    â€œKnock it off.”
    â€œLet me ask you something, Lark. Do you ever have any good days? Or are they all just bad and worse?”
    â€œToday reached a particularly low mark.”
    â€œYou’ve got your twenty years on the force. Quit. Resign. Do something, anything, that doesn’t make you so unhappy.”
    â€œI’m not good for anything else.”
    â€œI know a lot