"Bowes-ShadowAndGunman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bowes Richard)

been. I had a loaded .38 in my school bag.

In study hall that day, guys stared at me and whispered a story that was going
around. I dropped Dexedrine and looked at the papers from my locker. I got
scared, then angry. Documents ran from my grandfather to my mother, from my
mother to me. I owned a share of the house and Jim was trying to throw me out.
It seemed I owned a small part of his bar. Without Tay's signature the army
enlistment was worthless.

The Drama Society rehearsed after school. A couple of people looked at me
strangely. Grebesky, a forward on the hockey team, was Mistress Quickly, the
tavern keeper. Grebesky had his moves down but he couldn't remember his lines.
Nobody laughed as Mr. Royce, the drama advisor, kept prompting him.

In my ear, the voice said, "Early tomorrow, we'll go visit Uncle Jim and have a
little talk." The thought made me uneasy.

Then I realized there was a stir on stage. "Take five," said Mr. Royce.
"Grierson, get down here."

At first, I thought I'd missed a cue. Wondering what the big deal was, I came
off the stage into the gloom of the auditorium. And my eyes bugged. Royce stood
in the center aisle. Stacey was with him. "Nothing to worry about, Grierson," he
said. "Your cousin assures me it's just a minor family emergency."

"They were really nice about letting me in," said Stacey in an unfamiliar
bright, chirping voice. She had on a blue dress with a Peter Pan collar. "When I
called, Grandmother said you were here." She smiled girlishly. "Sorry to take
Kevin away, Mr. Royce. It was fascinating watching you direct."

Royce stared at her, enchanted. Girls hardly ever entered the school. I could
hear the guys on stage behind me, panting. It turned out we came from a real
affectionate family. "Hey, cuz!" I said and kissed Stacey on the mouth.

"Very good, Grierson, you can go. Try to pay more attention," said Mr. Royce. As
I picked up my coat and book bag he added roguishly, ".You never told me you had
such a lovely cousin."

"Right," I muttered as we walked through the rotunda and out the door. "I can
imagine that coming up in conversation. 'Don't give me detention, sir, I have a
lovely cousin.'"

"He's a filthy pervert," Stacey said matter-of-factly. Out on the street, she
glanced around, then she looked at me, assessing. "I need your help."

I was looking too. Now that she wasn't putting on an act, Stacey seemed tense,
desperate. I stayed cool. "What's wrong?"

"Dr. X. He's up in New Hampshire, collecting money, drugs. He's coming back
tonight. Then he's taking me to Mexico." She took my hand. "Kevin, he's crazy