Jim Lewis - The King is Dead

He reached for her, but she stood back with a slight smile on her lips. I think I should go home now, she said.

He nodded, straightened up, and smoothed down his jacket. Yes. All right.

He took her home, kissed her once more at the door, and let her go. She stood inside the threshold and licked her lips. Walter was gentle, polite, considerate. He was stable, he was staying. He was a man, then, worldly and resourceful. So he was staying. So good, she was glad. The next time they went out, he kissed her again at the hard dark end of the night, and she pressed forward into him, where it was closer still to midnight, venturing in, with her kiss returned, toward everything he knew. That night she took him home; and the nights afterward she did or didn’t, depending on how she felt: whether it would be too much to be with him, or too much to be alone.

The Governor called Walter. Now, what’s going on with that accident out east? The one with the schoolchildren.

Nothing much, said Walter. Some of the parents are looking to throw a man in jail.

Who?

Anyone they can think of. The bus driver, the school board, the farmer whose property the road passes through. Other than that, nothing’s going on. Nothing at all.

Good, said the Governor.

No, I don’t think so, said Walter. I think we have to do something.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.