One Must Wait by Penny Mickelbury

Author:Penny Mickelbury
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penny Mickelbury
Published: 2016-07-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Carole Ann dressed for her assignation with Warren Forchette as he'd been dressed at their initial meeting yesterday: She wore a white tee shirt, her favorite and most well-worn jeans, and her running shoes. Around her waist she wore a nylon pouch which contained her driver’s license, some cash, a credit card, and her tiny telephone. She wore a white Atlanta Braves cap with a long bill to help her sunglasses shade her eyes, and when she drove up to the Legal Center promptly at two o'clock and spied her escort waiting on the steps for her, she alternated between feelings of chagrin and amusement. His Braves cap was blue and the only difference in their wardrobes. He lifted a hand in greeting when he saw her drive up. She acknowledged the gesture with a similar one and backed into a space while he walked to a dusty red, vintage Chevy pick-up parked at the curb.

"You like baseball?" he asked in greeting when she reached the truck, as he opened the pick-up's passenger door.

"I'm learning to," she replied, grabbing the inside door frame to help boost herself up into the huge truck.

"You surprised at how difficult it is?" he asked as he seated himself, slammed his door, and started the ignition.

"Overwhelmed," she said with a dry chuckle, noting that the powerful purr of the truck's engine belied its ancient appearance, and wondering if everything about the man had separate exterior and interior realities.

"Which were you—a basketball or a football junkie before you discovered the subtle joys of baseball?"

"Both," she answered grinning, "though it's infinitely easier in D.C. to be a Redskins fan than a Wizards fan. But if you forced a truly honest response from me, I'd have to claim a preference for basketball because the season lasts longer, and because there are more games. That way, if I get heavily involved in a case—which I often do—and miss three or four games, I didn't feel like I've missed the season."

He gave her a sideways grin in return but didn't speak, concentrating on maneuvering and manipulating the big truck through the heaviest traffic Carole Ann so far had seen in New Orleans. She knew they were headed west—they were on I-10 and west was the only possible direction unless he intended to go to Mississippi—and she expected him to head south once out of town, to connect with the state highway that would take them the one hundred and sixty miles or so to New Iberia, where Eldon Warmsley lived. But once out of town, Warren kept driving west on I-10. He spoke only once, to ask if she wanted him to turn on the air conditioning, and he grunted what she interpreted to be approval at her negative reply; and she spoke not at all, not wishing to give him the satisfaction of questioning their destination. She wanted to know where they were going if not to Eldon Warmsley's; but Warren Forchette clearly was a man unaccustomed to having to explain himself and she was equally unaccustomed to having to ask.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.