"Kathleen Ann Goonan - Angels and You Dogs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goose Mother)

Ambrose several times, and I assured her that Ambrose was living the life
of a dog-king in paradise.
"Has Lulu mentioned anything about "
"About what?"
"Well, about Ambrose."
"What about him? She takes him somewhere every Wednesday evening.
I don't know where. Maybe it's some kind of play group for dogs."
"Oh, dear," she said with a deep sigh.
"What's wrong?"
Lulu came in the door, festooned with thrift store shopping bags. "Is
that my mother?"
I didn't ask her how she knew, and handed her the phone.




.....



On a hot, still evening in April, I turned onto my little street on the way
home from the Publix. An ambulance loomed behind me, and I pulled
aside to let it pass. It stopped in my front yard, next to a police cruiser. A
bit further down the street was a BMW convertible that made my heart
stop.
It was Charles's.
 I don't remember stopping my car or getting out. I ran past Ambrose
the Lionhearted cowering beneath the hibiscus bush and through the open
front door into a vision of blood and gore and heartbreak.
Charles lay on the floor, his handsome face the same color as the
blood-splashed white tiles where he had fallen. An unbelievably young and
beautiful blond man knelt next to him, tears on his face, shaking Charles's
shoulders. "Charles! Luv! Are you all right? The ambulance is here."
Several kinds of shock roared through me at once.
Charles moaned and opened his eyes. I fell to the floor and took his
hands, which were cold as ice. Still, the touch felt like home. "What
happened?"
Charles flicked his eyes toward the other man a young and therefore
most probably non-wealthy man and said nothing, although perhaps
anything he meant to say turned into the bellow of pain that emerged.
Two paramedics pushed both of us aside and knelt to attend to Charles,
speaking in medicalese to one another as they started an IV line.
A black policewoman stood next to Lulu, holding a narrow flip-pad and
a pen. "Who are you?" she demanded. "This is a crime scene."
"It's my house."
The policewoman, whose nameplate said Officer Dwania Hawks, looked
at Lulu. Static crackled from the radio on her belt.
Lulu said, "It's my house too, honey."
Officer Hawks frowned as if she had strong objections to being called
honey but would let it pass exactly once. "Explain."