Woman Hunt by Orrie Hitt

Author:Orrie Hitt [Hitt, Orrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4405-3974-9
Publisher: Prologue Books
Published: 2012-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

11

THE ROADS, except for the state highway, were in lousy shape. There was snow and slush six inches deep, but I had driven the Caddy and it hung to the curves even at forty miles an hour. Most people, especially those driving trucks, were laboring along at thirty or less but I was in a hurry.

I was in a hurry for two reasons.

Sherry.

And that damned gun.

Now that I was away from the city and away from Sam that gun became more and more important. In the first place, my fingerprints were still on it. In the second place, there was a remote possibility that somebody, maybe a kid, would find it in that hollow log. If I got the gun, wiped it clean and returned it to the Hale cottage, there would be nothing to tie it in with the killing. Nothing. I would be as free as a bird flying south on a high wind.

I passed through Mercerville, and about a mile outside of town I had to stop and put on chains. I didn’t need them on the road but I would need them when I got to the lake. If you get stuck in the snow at Parish Lake you’ve got a good chance of staying there until spring.

There was a light in Sherry’s cabin when I arrived. There were also some tire tracks in her driveway which indicated that she had possibly been to town in a taxi. I hit the horn a couple of times, the way I had before, and got out of the car.

She opened the door for me as I came up the steps.

“I thought it was you,” she said, “or the police.”

“The police?”

“They were here just a little while ago.”

I entered the warmth of the living room. She closed the door and the latch clicked shut.

I removed my hat and coat and walked over to the fireplace. I threw on a log and pretended to be interested in the fire but inside I felt myself trembling.

“What did they want?”

“Nothing much. They just asked me what I knew about somebody breaking the window next door.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Only that you had showed me what happened. They dug around in the snow for the screwdriver and the — ?”

“Putty knife?”

“Yes, the putty knife.”

“And?”

“They took them away with them.”

“I see.”

My hands were cold and wet. Had I wiped my fingerprints off of the screwdriver and the putty knife? I guessed I had. There was nothing to worry about. I was building a mountain out of a pile of sand.

“I could use a drink,” I said, thinking that I could use half a dozen.

“I’ll fix one.”

She crossed the room and my glance followed her. What a body that woman had! She was wearing that red sweater and those tight slacks and everything about her was sensuous and inviting.

“I missed you,” she said simply, reaching for the glasses.

“And I missed you.”

“It was pretty terrible about your wife.”

“Yes.” I sat down on the sofa and waited for her.

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