"Harrington, Patricia - Between A Rock And A Hard Place" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrington Patricia)

He couldn't stand being disappointed one more time.
The next morning, George's eyes felt coated with sand but his heart was light.
The shaman had visited him in the middle of the night and told him what to do.
George took the soapstone to work and kept it in a drawer where he could touch
it. When his courage faltered, he picked up the soapstone and wasn't surprised
at all to feel it pulsing as if it had come to life and had a heartbeat.
George knew the shaman was close to breaking through his stony prison.
After lunch, George called Eunice. "Dear, we'll have to leave an hour later on
Saturday morning. The boss wants me to have a report ready for some buyers
flying in from Japan."
"But he's already said you could have your vacation time."
"I know. But if I do this favor for him, I think it might tip things my way on
that raise. I'll help you pack Friday night and put the luggage in the car.
I'll take the early bus to work. The East coast office is sending the data I
need first thing. I'll whip out that report, and then you can drive the car
and pick me up at nine."
"Well . . . "
George knew she was thinking about his overdue raise. He pressed on, "You
won't have to rush about in the morning, and I won't be in your way. We'll
take the Snoqualmie Pass and still get to Seattle on time."
Saturday morning, George sat in his corner office on the ground floor waiting
for Eunice. He knew no one else was in the building because he had checked.
Besides that, his window looked directly on the empty parking lot. He held the
soapstone and the shaman's reassuring presence that flowed from it.
Eunice pulled into the lot at nine sharp and swung the car around so that she
was parked parallel to George's office. She honked the horn and rolled down
her window a few inches. George pulled aside the vertical blinds, peered out
his window and smiled for Eunice's benefit. He raised his hands, spread his
fingers apart and opened and closed them. Ten minutes, he mouthed.
Eunice shook her head in disgust and rolled the window up.
George knew that she would keep the motor running, the heater on and play her
Lawrence Welk tape while she waited. He slipped into the corridor, out the
side door, and then crouched over, crab walking to the car on the passenger
side. George didn't think Eunice would check her rear view mirror, and last
night, he'd tilted the passenger side mirror, so it wasn't possible to glance
in it and see behind the car. Knowing Eunice, she wouldn' t bother fixing much
less looking into the mirror. A cloud of white exhaust billowed from the car
in the cold November air. George took the soapstone from his pocket and fit
the rock's narrow end into the car's exhaust pipe. He pushed until it fit
snugly and the white plume stopped. Then he turned around, crept back to the
building and returned to his office.
George stood by the window but far enough away and to the side so that Eunice
couldn't see him from the car. He watched until he saw her head droop, and
then waited patiently until her body slumped over the steering wheel. George
checked his watch. He'd wait a bit more to be sure the carbon monoxide had
done its work. He was in no hurry now.
After George retrieved the soapstone, he washed and dried it in the men's
room. That's when he noticed two indentations in the stone's mottled surface
that shone like luminous dark eyes. George smiled at them. Tomorrow he'd carve
the stone and let the shaman out.