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and the television stations. The more they broadcast it, the
better.
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Dan shrugged in agreement.  On my way back to the
station, I ll stop by and speak to her parents and get that out
of the way. Then I ll call all the newspapers and the
television stations. I m sure we can get this out by tomorrow
night. Dan stood up and put his coat on.  They re going to
have a fucking field day with this.
 Don t they always?
 Yeah, but it s not usually in my jurisdiction. He rubbed
his stomach.  I think I m getting an ulcer.
 What s the matter, Chief, can t you take a little heat?
 I m not like you. Dan laughed.  I remember you used
to eat this shit up. Nothing bothered you. Interrogation,
checking statements, searching records, all the hours spent in
court, and even dealing with the press never produced a
single complaint. Man, I loved working with you. He shook
his head.  I wish all my men were like you.
 You don t want your men to be like me.
 Why is that?
 Because when it boiled right down to it, I couldn t
handle it. I couldn t take the heat.
 That s not fair to say.
 It s the truth.
 I was there Mike; the circumstances were completely
different. Don t be that hard on yourself.
 Let s hope someone recognizes Nichole and can give us
some information that will help us get this guy.
Dan reached for the door.  I ll be in touch.
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Chapter Six
Jessica turned around as she rinsed the last of her dinner
dishes and was surprised to see Michael. She had seen his
headlights when he had pulled in, but he usually went
straight to his study after spending the day with Dan.  Hi,
you want some dinner?
 I ll fix it. Michael went directly for the refrigerator. He
peered at its contents.
 Sit down. I can fix it, she said as she pointed to a chair
at the bar.
 You are my trainer, not my cook. There was an edge to
his voice.
 I know what my job is. She picked up the casserole
Mrs. Mayfield had made earlier. Michael looked exhausted.
 Mrs. Mayfield has already fixed every thing. All I need to
do is heat it up. It s no trouble, really, she said.
Michael closed the door and jerked the dish from her
hand. His face was like stone.  I can heat it myself. He
turned his back to her and thrust the dish into the microwave.
Jessica didn t push the subject any further. As Michael
prepared his meal, she dried and put the dishes away. She
took a wet sponge and wiped down all the counters. Once
she was finished tidying up, she slid into the stool beside
him. She used the palm of her hand to prop her head up and
sat for a moment.  How was your day?
 Fine.
She waited for a few seconds to see if he was finished
speaking. When he took another bite of his dinner, she
realized that he was. Apparently he didn t feel any
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elaboration was needed. She tried once again.  Tom and I
worked with the new quarter today.
Nothing.
 She is a great horse. Nice disposition. I think she ll go
far.
Nothing.
She drummed her fingers.  Yep, everything went
smoothly.
Nothing.
 Yes, other than Richard breaking his leg falling off a
horse this morning and Mrs. Mayfield cutting her finger off
this afternoon making that very casserole, I think it s safe to
say everything went smoothly today. However, the night is
still young; you never can tell what might happen next.
If he noticed her attempts at conversation, he gave no
indication of it. He ate his food without taking his eyes off
his plate.
Jessica gestured to his plate.  Good isn t it? Who would
of ever thought that lima beans could be good in anything?
I ve got to hand it to Mrs. Mayfield; she s amazing in the
kitchen.
As the fork dropped, it clattered loudly against the
ceramic plate. He stared straight ahead as he spoke.  What
are you doing?
 What do you mean? Her face went blank.
He shook his head and lifted his hands indicating the
space between them.  This.
Jessica s brow furrowed.  It s called conversation.
He looked at her with wild eyes.  I know what it s called.
The question is, why are you making it?
 Because that s what most people do when they sit down
for a meal. They talk about the events of the day.
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 I m not like most people. He picked up his fork and
continued to eat.
Jessica rearranged the placemat until it was perfectly
straight. She then inspected a small spot of dried food on the
tile. Using her thumbnail to scratch it off, she then wiped it
clean, folded her arms, and leaned back in her chair.
 What are you doing now? he asked.
 I don t understand.
 Why are you sitting there? His face remained
impassive while his eyes made contact with hers.
 I thought you d like some company while you eat. Most
people don t like to eat alone. I know I don t.
 I m not 
She scooted the tall stool back and stood up in
frustration.  Like most people. All I was trying to do was be
friendly. I should have known it would be a waste of time.
She stared down at him.  I don t know why I even bother.
 I didn t mean 
 Forget it. She walked out of the kitchen.
Michael shoved his plate aside.  Shit.
* * * * *
Michael found Jessica sitting on the swing at the far end
of the porch. She was bathed in almost complete darkness,
and the porch light strained to light her. He could make out
Quest s head resting in her lap. The dog s tail thumped
rhythmically as she stroked the soft area between his ears.
 Quest, you have the strangest owner. I can t believe he
likes to be alone. He eats alone, works alone, sleeps alone;
he does just about everything alone. And he doesn t like to
talk. Who doesn t like to talk? Imagine never talking. I sure
can t. It gives me the goose bumps just thinking about it.
She gave the large black lab a sturdy pat on his shoulder
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before she continued,  How do you live with him, year after
year? I ve only been here a little while and I feel like
grabbing him and shaking some sense into him.
 Do you always talk to animals? Michael asked.
Jessica looked up in surprise. She had pictured him in the
kitchen eating alone, staring blankly at his plate, enjoying his
isolation, and thinking about whatever it was he thought
about.
 When there isn t anyone else to talk to.
He held the door open.  Come inside. It looks like it
might rain again and it s starting to cool. He didn t want to
be the one to kill her liveliness; it wouldn t be fair.
Jessica didn t move. She pushed the deck with her tiptoe, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]