Trauma by Graham Masterton

Author:Graham Masterton
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2002-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

The Secret

She washed her hair and wrapped it in a pink towel turban. Earlier in the evening, for just a moment, she had been tempted to tell Duke about Kyle Lennox’s invitation, but now she went to her purse and took out the business card with Kyle Lennox’s autograph on it and tore it into the tiniest pieces possible.

Two Phone Calls

A few minutes before 8:00 A.M. the next morning Bonnie received two phone calls. She was frying bacon for Duke’s breakfast. The first call came from Lieutenant David Irizarry of the Los Angeles Police Department.

“Ms. Winter? Captain O’Hagan asked me to call you.”

“Oh, yes?”

“It’s about your son, Raymond Winter. Captain O’Hagan says that we’ve decided not to file charges of assault against him. However, he will be required at some point to come down to headquarters.”

“I see. I see. That’s good news, I guess.”

“Captain O’Hagan will be in touch with you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

The second call was from Lieutenant Dan Munoz.

“Bonnie? I’m glad I caught you. I’ve fixed up a job for you at Ivanhoe Drive by the Silver Lake Reservoir. Kind of messy, the kid-in-a-box case. How about meeting me three o’clock tomorrow. We can sort it all out. Who loves you, baby?”

Bonnie hung up the phone and stared at the bacon gradually shriveling in the pan. Duke appeared, wearing a sweaty T-shirt and droopy boxer shorts. He hadn’t shaved or showered, and he staggered around the kitchen as if he were still drunk, which he probably was. Eventually he dragged out a chair and sat down, tilting wildly to one side.

“You think I don’t love you, don’t you?” he announced.

“Duke—forget it. I’m not saying anything.”

“But you think—because I can’t always get it up—you think that I don’t love you.”

“Did I say that?”

“Shit—you didn’t have to say it. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Well, okay, let’s be frank. It would be nice if you could sometimes get it up.”

Duke didn’t answer, but stared at the place mat as if it would miraculously reveal the answers to all of his problems. Bonnie took a plate out of the oven and scraped six slices of bacon onto it, as well as hash browns, grilled tomato, and two fried eggs. She set it down in front of Duke’s nose and said, “There. Don’t ever tell me that I don’t love you. Ever.”

Duke poked at his bacon with his fork. “You’re trying to murder me, aren’t you? All this goddamned cholesterol. Well, fuck you.”

“Duke, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t wait for you to die of a heart attack, believe me. I don’t have the patience.”

He began to stab his breakfast even more furiously, as if he were trying to kill it. “Fuck you! You’re trying to murder me—that’s what you’re doing! You’re trying to clog up my arteries and murder me!”

Bonnie lowered her head and sat and listened to Duke’s ranting and didn’t say a word. What else could she say? After a while she stood up and

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