chiaasen.stormyweather-第42部分

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　Snapper　wanted　to　be　sure　for　himself。　He　leaned　forward　until　he　was　two　inches　from　the　old　man's　nose。　〃You're　not　from　the　insurance　pany？　You're　not　Dove's　boss？〃
　
　Misjudging　the　situation；　Levon　Stichler　emphatically　shook　his　head　no。　Edie　Marsh　stepped　out　of　the　way　so　Snapper　could　punch　him　into　unconsciousness。
　
　They　sat　on　the　rolled…up　sleeping　bags　and　waited　for　the　governor　to　wake　up　in　the　palmettos。
　
　Augustine　assumed；　as　men　sometimes　do　when　they've　had　a　particularly　glorious　time；　that　he　should　apologize。
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　said；　〃For　what？　It　was　my　idea。〃
　
　〃No；　no；　no。　You're　supposed　to　say　it　was　all　a　terrible　mistake。　You　got　carried　away。　You　don't　know　what　got　into　you。　Now　you　feel　rotten　and　cheap　and　used；　and　you　want　to　rush　home　to　your　husband。〃
　
　〃Actually　I　feel　pretty　terrific。〃
　
　〃Me；　too。〃　Augustine　kissed　her。　〃Forgive　me；　but　I　was　raised　Catholic。　I　can't　be　sure　I've　had　fun　unless　I　feel　guilty　afterwards。〃
　
　〃Oh；　it's　guilt　you're　talking　about？　Sure　I　feel　guilty。　So　should　you；　allowing　yourself　to　be　seduced　by　a　newlywed。〃　She　stood　up　and　stretched　her　arms。　〃However；　Senor　Herrera；　there's　a　big　difference　between　guilt　and　remorse。　I　don't　feel　any　remorse。〃
　
　Augustine　said；　〃Me；　neither。　And　I　feel　guilty　that　I　don't。〃
　
　Bonnie　whooped　and　climbed　on　his　back。　They　rolled　to　the　ground　in　an　amorous　tangle。
　
　Skink　came　out　of　the　thicket　and　smiled。　〃Animals！〃　he　bellowed；　evangelically。　〃No　better　than　animals；　rutting　in　public！〃
　
　Bonnie　and　Augustine　got　up　and　brushed　themselves　off。　The　governor　was　a　sight。　Twigs　and　wet　leaves　stuck　to　his　knotted　hair。　Gossamer　strands　of　a　broken　spider's　web　glistened　from　his　chin。
　
　He　tromped　melodramatically　toward　the　campfire；　shouting：　〃Fornicators！　Fellaters！　You　ought　to　be　ashamed！〃
　
　Augustine　winked　at　Bonnie　Lamb。　〃That's　one　I　hadn't　thought　of：　shame。〃
　
　〃Yeah；　that's　a　killer。〃
　
　The　governor　announced　he　had　a　tasty　surprise　for　breakfast。　〃Your　carnal　frolics　awoke　me　last　night；〃　he　said；　〃so　I　went　walking　the　roads。〃
　
　From　his　fatigues　he　produced　two　small；　freshly　skinned　carcasses。　〃Who　wants　rabbit；〃　he　asked；　〃and　who　wants　the　squirrel？〃
　
　Later　they　doused　the　fire　and　loaded　the　truck。　Using　the　hand…drawn　map　that　Augustine　had　been　given　by　the　helpful　Margo　and　David；　they　located　Calusa　Drive　with　no　difficulty。　The　black　Jeep　Cherokee　was　parked　halfway　down　the　street；　in　front　of　a　badly　damaged　house；　the　bawdy　mud　flaps　were　impossible　to　miss。　Skink　told　Augustine　to　keep　driving。　They　left　the　pickup　half　a　mile　away　and　backtracked　on　foot。
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　noticed；　uneasily；　that　Augustine　wasn't　carrying　either　the　pistol　or　the　dart　rifle。　〃Scouting　mission；〃　he　explained。
　
　They　stayed　off　Calusa　and　approached　on　a　parallel　street；　one　block　north。　When　they　got　close；　they　cut　through　a　yard　and　slipped　into　an　abandoned　house　directly　across　from　15600。　From　the　broken　window　of　a　front　bedroom；　they　had　a　clear　view　of　the　front　door；　the　garage；　the　black　Cherokee　and　two　other　cars　in　the　driveway。
　
　Margo　and　David　were　right。　Their　stolen　license　plate　had　been　removed　from　the　Jeep。　Skink　said：　〃Here's　what　happened。　After　the　guy　beat　up　Brenda；　he　pulled　the　tag　from　the　Cherokee　and　tossed　it。　What's　on　there　now　probably　came　off　that　Chevy。〃
　
　The　car　parked　nearest　to　the　garage　was　a　late…model　Caprice。　The　license　plate　was　missing。　The　second　car　was　a　rusty　barge　of　an　Oldsmobile　with　a　lacerated　vinyl　top　and　no　hubcaps。　Augustine　said　it　would　be　useful　to　know　how　many　people　were　inside　the　house。　Skink　grunted　in　assent。
　
　Bonnie　tried　to　guess　what　the　next　move　would　be。　Notifying　the　police；　she　surmised；　was　not　in　the　governor's　plans。　Looking　around；　she　felt　a　stab　of　melancholy。　The　room　had　belonged　to　a　baby。　Gaily　colored　plastic　toys　were　strewn　on　the　floor；　a　sodden　stuffed　teddy　bear　lay　facedown　in　a　dank　puddle　of　rainwater。　Mounted　on　the　facing　wall　were　wooden　cutouts　of　popular　Disney　characters…Mickey　Mouse；　Donald　Duck；　Snow　White。　Oddly；　they　made　Bonnie　Lamb　think　of　her　honeymoon　and　Max。　The　first　thing　he'd　bought　at　the　Magic　Kingdom　was　a　Mickey　golf　cap。
　
　I　should've　known　then　and　there；　she　thought。　Bless　his　heart；　he　probably　couldn't　help　it。
　
　She　got　up　to　see　the　baby's　crib。　A　mobile　of　tropical　butterflies；　fastened　to　the　rail；　had　been　snapped　at　the　stem。　The　mattress　was　splotched　with　dark　greenish　mildew。　Shiny　red　ants　trooped　across　the　fuzzy　pink　blanket。　Bonnie　wondered　what　had　happened　to　the　infant　and　her　parents。　Surely　they　escaped　before　the　roof　blew　off。
　
　Augustine　waved　her　back　to　the　broken　window。　Heart　skipping；　she　knelt　between　the　two　men。　What　am　I　doing？　Where　is　this　heading？
　
　Another　car　drives　up　to　15600　Calusa。　A　white　pact。
　
　Man　gets　out。　Bony　and　clerical…looking。　Gray　hair。　Brown　windbreaker；　loose　dark　trousers。　Reminds　Bonnie　of　her　landlord　back　in　Chicago。　What　was　his　name？　Wife　taught　piano。　What　the　heck　was　his　name？
　
　Standing　by　his　car；　the　old　man　puts　on　a　pair　of　reading　glasses。　Looks　at　a　piece　of　paper；　then　up　at　the　numerals　painted　on　the　house。　Nods。　Takes　off　the　glasses。　Tucks　them　in　the　left　pocket　of　his　windbreaker。　Pats　the　right　pocket；　as　if　checking　for　something。
　
　Awfully　hot　for　a　jacket；　Bonnie's　thinking。　Summertime　in　Miami；　how　can　a　person　be　chilly？
　
　〃Where　does　he　fit？〃　said　Augustine。
　
　〃Contractor。　Utility　worker。　Something　like　that；〃　Skink　speculated。
　
　Bonnie　Lamb　watches　the　old　man　straighten　himself；　stride　purposefully　to　the　doorway。　Into　the　house　he　goes。
　
　Augustine　said；　〃I　thought　I　saw　a　woman。〃
　
　〃Yes。〃　Skink　scratched　thoughtfully　at　his　beard。
　
　Creedlow！　Bonnie　thinks。　That's　the　ex…landlord's　name。　James　Creedlow。　His　wife；　the　piano　teacher；　her　name　was　Regina。　Chicago　wasn't　so　long　ago…Bonnie　feels　ditzy　for　not　remembering。　James　and　Regina　Creedlow；　of　course。
　
　Augustine　said；　〃What　now；　captain？〃
　
　Skink　settled　his　bristly　chin　on　the　windowsill。　〃We　wait。〃
　
　Two　hours　later；　the　old　man　still　hasn't　e　out　of　the　house　at　15600　Calusa　Drive。　Bonnie's　worried。
　
　Then　another　car　pulls　up。
　
　
　
　CHAPTER　TWENTY
　
　
　Neria　Torres　had　no　desire　to　drive　all　the　way　to　Brooklyn　in　search　of　a　thieving　husband。
　
　〃Then　fly；〃　suggested　Celeste；　the　graduate　student　who　shared　the　Volkswagen　van　with　Neria　and　Neria's　lover；　the　professor。
　
　The　professor's　name　was　Charles　Gabler。　His　field　of　interest　was　parapsychology。　〃Neria　won't　fly；〃　he　said。　〃She's　afraid　to　death　of　airplanes。〃
　
　〃Wow；〃　said　Celeste；　cooking　on　a　portable　stove　in　the　back　of　the　van。　She　was　in　charge　of　the　macrobiotic　menu。
　
　Neria　said；　〃It's　not　just　the　flying；　it's　Brooklyn。　How　would　I　find　Tony　in　a　place　like　that？〃
　
　〃I　know　how；〃　Celeste　piped。　〃Hire　a　psychic。〃
　
　〃Great　idea。　We'll　call　Kreskin。〃
　
　The　professor　said；　〃Neria；　there's　no　need　to　be　snide。〃
　
　〃Oh　yes；　there　is。〃
　
　She　and　Dr　Gabler　had　been　sorely　low　of　funds　when　he'd　proposed　that　young　Celeste　join　them　a　week　earlier　as　they　prepared　to　depart　Eugene；　Oregon；　for　Miami。　Young　Celeste　had　been　blessed　with　a　fortable　trust　fund；　a　generous　heart　and　handsome　gravity…defying　breasts。　Neria　was　under　no　illusions　about　the　professor's　motives；　but　she　tried　to　put　aside　her　concerns。　They　needed　gas　money；　and　young　Celeste　kept　a　world　of　credit　cards　in　her　purse。　Somewhere　near　Salina；　Kansas；　Neria　felt　the　need　to　inform　Dr　Gabler　that　he　was　paying　too　much　attention　to　their　travel　panion；　that　his　behavior　was　not　only　rude　but　disrespectful；　and　that　the　Great　Plains　in　the　heat　of　summer　was　no　place　to　relearn　the　basics　of　hitchhiking。　The　professor　seemed　to　take　the　warning　to　heart。
　
　In　truth；　Neria　was　growing　bored　with　Dr　Gabler　and　his　absurd　blue　and　red　crystals。　Mystic　healing；　my　ass…a　box　of　Milk　Duds　starts　to　look　pretty　mystical；　you　smoke　enough　dope。　Which　was　how　the　professor　spent　most　of　his　waking　hours；　sluggishly　bequeathing　the　driving　duties　to　Neria　and　Celeste。
　
　〃I'd　rather　go　to　Miami　anyway；〃　Celeste　said；　measuring　out　two　cups　of　brown　rice。　〃I'd　like　to　work　in　one　of　those　tent　cities。　Cook　for　the　homeless；　if　they　need　me。〃
　
　The　professor　regarded　Neria　Torres　through　bloodshot　hound…dog　eyes。　〃Darling；　it's　entirely　up　to　you。　We'll　go　wherever　you　wish。〃
　
　〃Wow；〃　said　Neria。　The　mockery　was　lost　on　Celeste；　who　was　immersed　in　a　plex　recipe。　Neria　declared　she　was　going　for　a　walk；　and　exited　the　van。
　
　They　had　parked　at　a　public　campground　off　Interstate　20；　outside　Atlanta；　to　discuss　which　way　to　go…　New　York　or　Miami；　north　or　south。　Neria　Torres　replayed　in　her　mind　the　upsetting　conversation　with　the　stranger　who'd　answered　Tony's　telephone。　The　more　Neria　thought　about　it；　the　more　doubts　she　had。　Not　that　her　piggy　husband　wasn't　capable　of　falling　for　a　twenty…four…year…old　blonde；　rather；　it　was　highly　implausible　that　one　would　fall　for　him。　And　Brooklyn？　Hardly　a　boomtown　for　the　mobile…home　trade。　The　stranger's　story　didn't　add　up。
　
　Neria　Torres　had　tried　to　confirm　the　lurid　details　with　Varga；　the　nosy　next…door　neighbor；　but　his　telephone　was　out　of　order。　Neria　was　certain　about　two　things：　She　was　entitled　to　half　the　hurricane　money　for　the　house　in　Miami。　And　her　estranged　husband　was　dodging　her。
　
　New　York　was　an　astronomic　long　shot。　At　least　in　Florida　there'd　be　a　trail。　Neria　decided　they　should　head　for　Miami；　as　originally　planned。
　
　She　thought　of　a　way　to　widen　the　net：　Why　not　let　the　cops　search　for　Tony；　too？　They　were　the　pros；　after　all。　Neria　backtracked　through　the　campground　to　a　phone　booth；　where　she　used　her　husband's　PIN　number　to　call　the　Metro…Dade　police　and　make　a　missing…person　report。
　
　After　a　desk　officer　took　the　information；　he　put　Neria　Torres　on　hold。　She　waited　several　minutes；　growing　increasingly　impatient。　The　sky　began　to　drizzle。　Neria　fumed。　She　thought