Read Online You Live Once by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online

cheeks were wet. “Well you could anyway kiss me,” she said almost fiercely.
    No boats were near and they couldn’t see us from the patio of the Raymond camp. I stood up, took her hand, pulled her up and kissed her. It lasted a long time. There was none of the quick flame of Mary. Nancy’s lips were soft and warm and very sweet. But there was heat there, a slow burning—enough heat so I wondered how Dodd could be such an utter fool. We stepped apart and smiled at each other.
    “I guess you’re darn good for me,” she said. “Like a sort of substitute conscience. I wish it was you I was in love with. It would be so much easier. And better.”
    “You’re special, Nancy.”
    “Somebody has to think so. I guess we better get back now.”
    We climbed the steps. I was certain Mrs. Raymond checked me over quickly for signs of lipstick. Nancy had dabbed it off with a Kleenex. I said goodby as soon as I could and left.
    I did not like driving by the entrance to the road where I had left Mary’s body. Soon the night would come with small animals rustling through the shrubbery, with dew weighting the white skirt, misting the bare shoulders. There would be insect song and a riding moon. I wished I could have left her in a warm dry place. It couldn’t matter to her, I knew, but it mattered to me. It didn’t seem right.
    I ate in town and it was dark when I turned into my drive. Mrs. Speers ran a window up and called to me. I braked the car, motor running.
    “Has Mary Olan turned up yet, Mr. Sewell?” she asked.
    “Not yet, Mrs. Speers.”
    “They must be getting very worried by now.”
    “I guess so.”
    “You won’t forget my trash tomorrow, will you?”
    “I’ll remember it, Mrs. Speers.”
    “I guess you’ll be going to bed right now, won’t you?”
    “How do you mean?”
    She laughed. “Well, you know I heard you drive in at four, this morning.”
    “I was in by two, Mrs. Speers.”
    She laughed again. “You young folks, you lose track of time.”
    “I know it wasn’t that late.”
    “Goodnight, Mr. Sewell.” She closed the window.
    Inside my apartment, I locked the door, turned on the lights, closed the blinds. It was good to be alone and in a locked place. I felt as though I would now be able to think clearly and consecutively. All day I had been playing a part. It had left no room for reflection. I felt as though my face ached from smiling. I had walked among the beach people, shaking hands with a hand that had carried the dead. It gave me an appreciation of that degree of iron control a murderer must have.
    During the day I had learned two new facts: Dodd Raymond had been out of his house until five, and a carhad driven into my driveway at four. I had no doubt but that the car at four had brought Mary to the place of her death. Probably Mrs. Speers, sleeping through my first arrival, hearing the arrival at four, turned over and went to sleep again and did not hear the car leave.
    I had to think of Dodd as the suspect. I knew that he and Mary Olan had been having an affair. And I knew that Mary was cruel, taunting, ruthless—withholding herself on whim. I could imagine Dodd, infuriated beyond reason, striking her in anger, killing her. Maybe she had showed him the key I had given her, hinting at a reason for it which did not exist. Yes, he could have killed in sudden jealous anger. And, having killed in that way, knowing that I was a very sound sleeper, knowing the key was available, he would be capable of planting the body in my apartment. It would not be done out of malice toward me—though there would be some of that. It would be done as the most logical way of diverting suspicion.
    Thus, had Mary died of a blow, or died with the mark of the strangler’s hands on her throat, I would have had no doubt that it was Dodd. But the cause of death had been my red belt around her throat; the print of the weave had been in her flesh. And so she had been brought to my apartment to be killed there. And