Read Online The Remake by Stephen Humphrey Bogart - Free Book Online Page A

she was. “What can I do for you, Miss Wright? Did you come to repossess my furniture? Steal my mail? Maybe just put red ants in the seat cushions? Or maybe sell me some poison?”
    The kid bit her lip. “I don’t think you should joke about that. It—Murray was a jerk, but nobody should have to die like that. All the twitching and throwing up and—It really isn’t funny.”
    “Okay,” R.J. said. “It wasn’t funny. And neither is trying to pin it on me. Which your old lady is definitely trying.”
    She still didn’t make any move to come in and sit down. Instead she stood up straight in the doorway. “I’m not my mother, Mr. Brooks. I don’t like her any more than you do. Maybe even less.”
    “That doesn’t seem possible,” R.J. said. “I don’t like her at all.”
    “You’ve only met her once,” the girl said, and her face was twisted into a mask of bitterness. “Imagine what it would be like to see her every day, your whole life, and know that there’s no way to escape, ever. And that…that there’s maybe some of that awful woman in you. That someday you might end up—like that.”
    R.J. studied the girl. She seemed to be for real. She was upset, bitter. There was none of the brazen punk in her that she’d shown at the hotel. For no real reason R.J. found himself liking her a little bit. “Sit down, Miss Wright,” he said. “How can I help you?”
    She slid uncertainly into a chair. “Thank you. It’s—I, um, actually. It’s Kelley? Mary Kelley. Mother doesn’t use Daddy’s name, but I—would like to.”
    “All right. Miss Kelley. What’s on your mind?”
    She was having some trouble looking him in the eye. She looked at her hands as she talked, moving them around nervously. “First, um, I wanted to tell you?”
    “Yes?”
    “Ah, that Mother. You know. She’s, um, I don’t know. Been checking into you or—and now she’s, um. Doing something? That would, you know. Really bother you?”
    “Thanks for the warning,” R.J. said, thinking about Casey. “She’s already done it.”
    “Oh,” said Mary.
    “Was there something else?”
    She looked up at him suddenly, and even though she almost immediately began to blush bright red, she held the look. “Yes,” she said, and looked away.
    “You want to tell me what it is?”
    Mary looked out the window, still blushing. Okay, R.J. thought, give the kid a hand.
    “How long are you going to be in town?” he asked her.
    She answered without looking. “I—I’m not sure. Mother’s already gone back to L.A. I told her—I said I was staying here for a while.”
    “Did you tell her why?”
    Mary shook her head.
    “Why not?”
    A shrug.
    “You doing anything she wouldn’t want you to do, Miss Kelley?”
    A nod this time.
    “What is it?”
    She finally looked at him. Her face was pinched, as if she had taken a bite of something that cut the inside of her mouth. “Can you find my father, Mr. Brooks?”
    R.J. gave her a small smile. Points for effort. “I don’t know. Is he lost, Miss Kelley?”
    She looked away, then looked back. “Could we stop this, you know, Mr. Brooks, Miss Kelley stuff? It’s really, you know. Like in one of those old movies?”
    R.J. laughed. He was really starting to like this kid. She was showing spunk. She would have needed that to survive life with a mother like Janine Wright, but it was nice to see it out in the open. “Sure, Mary. Call me R.J. Tell me about your father.”
    She looked away again. “I haven’t seen him since I was little. He was, um. In jail. Prison.”
    “What did he do?”
    Her eyes snapped back to his. “Nothing. He was innocent. I mean, I don’t think he did anything. I think Mother framed him. For drugs.” She looked away. “I can’t prove that. I just—She’s so awful. She really would do anything if it, you know. Helped her in some way. Helped her get ahead.”
    “Where was your father last time you heard from him?”
    “I haven’t really heard from him.