Read Online The Shore by Robert Dunbar - Free Book Online Page B

slid into the front seat of the Volks. My gloves. He stared at his hands on the steering wheel. Must have left them at the bar.
    Slowly, his breathing eased, and the engine growled. Torn to pieces.
    All the way back to the hotel, he fought the impulse to take the first road out of town, to speed on until the pinelands lay far behind him, until even these past years of his life dwindled in the distance. What life would that be? So many times before, he’d struggled with the impulse to run. Sometimes I think I’ve been dead all these years. Dead and just too stupid to fall over.
    He parked and hurried to the door. Don’t make me have to ring. I don’t think I could deal with any more suspicions tonight. But the hotel door swung easily at his shove, and he released a steaming sigh. The small lamp still glowed in the deep gloom by the desk. If I can just lie down for a while, I’ll be all right. Closing the door softly, he shivered in the entrance, waiting for his vision to adjust.
    “Pardon me, but do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
    Brown shadows slid one into another as someone rose from the lobby sofa. He blinked rapidly and his mouth dropped open. Before he could speak, the door behind the desk flew open, and the hotelkeeper shuffled forward, holding his bathrobe closed. Mrs. D’Amato trailed him aggressively, and as she gestured and muttered in Italian, the sleeves of her housedress flapped to reveal angular glimpses of bony arms. He knew not a word of the language, but her tone of voice he understood perfectly. “You startled me.” Turning back to his visitor, he tried to smile with numbed facial muscles. “Is anything wrong?” He’d grown sufficiently accustomed to the light to make out the insignia on her coat.
    “Officer Lonigan,” she told him. “I’m with the Edgeharbor Police Department.” Somehow she made it sound like a question. “Mr. D’Amato, could we get a little more light in here, please?” Her voice held a cajoling quality.
    The chandelier flared. A coating of dust blazed on the crystals, and discolored bands of brightness striped the faded wallpaper. Blinking rapidly, he looked down at the old stains that pooled across the carpet.
    “We had some trouble here in town earlier. Perhaps you heard about it? Mr.…Hobbes, is it?”
    “Yes, I…” His voice cracked. “Yes.”
    “We’re just doing some routine checking on people, finding out about any strangers that might be in town.” As she studied his face, her expression hardened. “Nothing to be nervous about.”
    He succeeded in making his features relax. “Of course.” He spread his hands open as though attempting to conjure invisible forces from the air.
    “Thank you, folks.” She turned her head slightly, holding him in her peripheral vision. “That’ll be all for now. I’ll call you if I need you,” she added, iron courtesy in her voice. “I mean it, folks. You can leave us alone. Thank you. I’ll put the lights out when we’re through.”
    So close. He felt himself sink, mired in the glare from the chandelier. I got so close. A torrent of thoughts surged through his brain, all of them desperate. Can’t let them stop me. The top of the policewoman’s head barely reached his chin, and her honey-colored hair glinted in the light. Not now. Her hair had been cut unbecomingly short, brushed severely behind the ears, the effect a touch too insistent in its attempt to minimize her femininity. And the face looked young, too young really. Are those freckles? The tension in his shoulders relaxed, and suddenly, he smiled. “Anything I can do to help, Officer.”
    “Won’t you sit, please?” She remained standing.
    Good. He nodded approvingly. Basic stuff—maintain the psychological advantage. He kept smiling. Right out of a textbook. Though her stance and tone of voice suggested confidence, the details of the performance didn’t bear up under scrutiny. When he held her stare, she shifted her weight and wiped