Read Online Red Mist by Patricia Cornwell - Free Book Online Page A

satisfaction.
    “So here we are at last. Finally, I’m looking at you,” she says. “The big chief. The big boss. The legendary Dr. Scarpetta.”
    “I suppose you’re somewhat of a legend to me, too,” I say with no affect.
    “He loved me more than he ever loved you.”
    “I have no reason to doubt he did.”
    “I was the love of his life.”
    “I have no reason to doubt you were.”
    “He resented the fucking hell out of you,” she says, and the calmer I am the nastier she is. “He used to say you have no idea
     how hard you are on people and maybe if you ever looked in the mirror you’d understand why you don’t have any friends. He
     used to call you
Dr. Right
and he was
Dr. Wrong.
And the cops were
Detective Wrong
or
Officer Wrong.
Everybody wrong except you.
Wrong, Jack. You have to do it this way. Wrong, Jack!
” she continues, unable to disguise her delight. “Always telling him what to do and how to do it right.
Like the entire fucking world is a crime scene or a court case,
he used to complain to me.”
    “At times he resented me. It wasn’t a secret,” I reply reasonably.
    “Well, he sure as hell did.”
    “No one’s ever accused me of being easy to work for.”
    “People like you don’t get where they are by being easy. They step on people and have to kick them out of the way or belittle
     them for the fun of it.”
    “That’s one thing I don’t do. It’s a shame if he indicated otherwise.”
    “He always blamed you when things didn’t go well.”
    “He often did.”
    “What he never did even once was blame me.”
    “Do you blame him for what’s happened to you?” I ask.
    “He might have been twelve, but he wasn’t a boy. He sure as hell wasn’t, take it from me. He started it. Following me around. Trumping up excuses to talk to me, to touch me, telling me how he felt, how smitten he was. Things happen.”
    Yes, things happen,
I think.
Even when they absolutely shouldn’t.
“It just broke his heart when they hauled me off in handcuffs, and then later, when he had to look at me in court, it just
     about killed him,” she says, and her hostility toward me has vanished as suddenly as it appeared. “They separated us, all
     right, busted us apart, but not our souls. We still had our souls. Jack did admire you. As tedious as it was hearing about
     it, he did have respect for you. I know he did. The thing about Jack, though, was he never felt just one thing about anybody. If he loved you, he hated you. If he respected you, he disrespected you. If he wanted to be with you, he’d run away. If he found you, he’d lose you. And now he’s gone.”
    She looks down at her hands in her lap, and her shackles scrape and clank against the floor as she moves her feet and begins
     to shake. Her face is red, and she’s about to cry.
    “I had to get that out. I know it wasn’t nice.” She doesn’t look at me.
    “I understand.”
    “I hope you won’t cut me off because of it. I’d like to keep hearing from you.”
    “It’s all right to get things out.”
    “I didn’t know how I would feel about it after some time has passed, about him being dead,” she says, staring down. “I almost
     can’t comprehend it. It’s not like he was part of the life I have now, but he was my past. He’s the reason I’m here. And now
     the reason is gone but I’m not.”
    “I’m sorry,” I say.
    “It feels so vacant. That’s the word that keeps coming into my mind. Vacant. Like a big vacant lot windswept and barren.”
    “I know it’s painful.”
    “If people had just left us alone.” She lifts her eyes, and they are bloodshot and swimming with tears. “We didn’t hurt each
     other. If they’d just left us alone, none of this would have happened. Who were we hurting? It’s everyone else who was hurtful.”
    I say nothing. There is nothing to say.
    “Well, I hope the rest of your time in Savannah is productive.” It sounds very odd, the way she puts it.
    Officer Macon walks