Part 71 (1/2)
”Even if only for a few minutes. That's where I was. That's who I tried to call.” She watched her words sinking in and watched his expression, which he tried to maintain without change.
”I'm sorry,” she said.
”Sorry? Why?”
”I thought you might be hurt” she explained.
”Most men like to think they're the only ones.”
”I suppose they do,” he allowed, the sullenness in his spirit carefully disguised.
”Some men. I won't make that mistake. As long as we understand each other.”
”I think we do,” she said. She kissed him affectionately, not as a lover might, but as a good friend would. She was very tired, she explained further. She settled down onto her half of the twin beds and pulled the covers closely around her body. She slept.
He understood. He knew what she'd been trying to tell him and he accepted it, her story, at its face value. It fit perfectly into place.
Women like her were always taken, or so it seemed. He eased into his half of the sleeping accommodations.
He wanted to turn to her. He wanted to ask more about the other man.
Thomas disliked him, having never met him, and wanted to know about him, perhaps to be able to find a c.h.i.n.k in the man's armor, a character weakness which she'd never noticed.
He lay there in thought, feeling very lonesome, feeling quite left out from something he wished to share. He wanted to wake her and join her on her side. But now, because he'd asked about the telephone call, he couldn't. He wondered why he couldn't have kept his suspicions to himself. At least for one more night.
They checked out of the motel and drove across Barnstable, pa.s.sing through a strip-mining area and then by a coal-processing plant.
They easily found the white split-level home, surrounded by bare trees, which had the name J. GROVER on the mailbox before it.
When Thomas pulled his car to a stop at the curb before the house, he noticed a long blue car already parked in the driveway. A young girl, school aged and appearing to be about ten, played on the front walk.
Thomas turned off the ignition of his car.
”Coming with me?” he asked Leslie.
”If you want me to” she answered.
”You don't have to.”
She pondered it for a moment.
”Tom,” she said, 'it's upsetting to me.”
at is?”
”To have to look at this man. An a.s.sociate of my father's.” She hesitated.
”I know I come across as pretty cold-blooded sometimes, but other times . . . well, I am human, you know.”
”Apparently.”