Comeback(1997) by Richard Stark

Author:Richard Stark [Stark, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Click.

Parker sat up straighter, and a vertical line of

gray light appeared in front of him, brightened,

darkened, went out.

Somebody’d come into Brenda and Mackey’s

room; that was daylight when the door had opened.

It was no more than two hours, Parker thought, that

he’d been waiting in here.

The lights didn’t go on, in the next room.

Parker leaned close to the door and heard very

small movements.

Brenda and Mackey would switch the light on,

right away. Was this Liss? Parker listened.

Now the lights did come on. And the sounds of

movement stopped. Then there was brisk walking,

past this door and beyond, and Parker heard the

bathroom light click on. He eased the door open a

bit more, but his angle of view was toward the

front of the room. He could see most of the bed, on

the opposite wall, and the bedside table, and the

round table and two chairs and swag lamp in front

of the window, and part of the window with its

drape pulled across. He couldn’t see the door.

More footsteps. The closet door was slid open.

Ruffling sounds as somebody went through

whatever clothes were in there. Then a drawer

was opened, and shut.

Somebody

searching.

Somebody

neat

searching; he shuts the drawer. Knowing this

wasn’t Brenda, coming to believe it wasn’t Liss,

wondering if it was one of the three guys from that

car that had nosed around the stadium parking lot,

Parker waited, and then a guy he’d never seen in

his life before came around the end of the bed and

crossed over to look in the drawer of the bedside

table.

Parker looked at this guy, trying to fit him in. A

friend of Liss’s? Was Liss waiting at the empty

house, and he sent this other guy just in case the

money showed up at the motel?

No. Liss wouldn’t trust anybody else that far,

and nobody else would trust him that far. Also, this

guy didn’t look the type. He was a very trim fifty,

with short-cropped gray hair, wire frame

eyeglasses, and a look of competence and self-

assurance. He was dressed in a neat gray suit that

made him look more like a cop than a banker, but

this wasn’t a cop.

Something like a cop? Somebody who doesn’t

mind breaking and entering, and who feels there

might be something here he’s looking for.

Somebody who’s dealt himself in.

Parker’s eyes were now once again used to the

light. As the guy turned away from the empty

drawer in the bedside table, Parker stood, pushed

open the door, and stepped into the room.

The guy saw him. His eyes focused, his body

became still, and his right hand snaked inside his

suit jacket, coming out with a small flat automatic.

“Stop right there.”

Not law, but close to law. “Don’t be stupid,”

Parker told him, and spread his own empty hands.

“Put that thing away, or I’ll take it off you.”

The guy ignored that. He waggled the gun

toward the table and two chairs by the front door.

“Sit down over there,” he said.

“So you are stupid,” Parker said, and walked

toward him.

“Hey! Hey!” the guy said, startled, and backed

up two steps to the wall. Then, before Parker could

reach him, he holstered the automatic, just as

rapidly as he’d taken it out. Showing his palms, he

said, “All right.

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