"Tuttle, Lisa - A Cold Dish" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tuttle Lisa)

I heard him in the bedroom, knocking over things. He broke a lamp.

It was a small apartment, with few hiding places. It didn't take him long to figure out that the baby wasn't there. He came back into the living room then, glaring at me.

"What have you done with him?"

I didn't say anything. I just looked at the stewpot, laughter still welling up, painful now, like hiccoughs.

He turned pale. He made a sort of grunting noise and swayed on his feet. For a minute I thought he would faint. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and thenЧ

Carmen tells me I'm lucky he didn't kill me, knock me out, strangle meЧhe could have, so easily, and I had no kind of weapon to stop him. But he didn't. I think he was too horrified by what he thought he'd done to think of anything else.

He ran for the door, desperate to escape. I could hear him retching as he hurried away.

As soon as he was gone, I grabbed my coat and the bag I'd packed earlier, and headed for the airport. Carmen was waiting for me there with the baby, who was getting fractious, ready for his feed. We caught our plane with minutes to spare, my breasts leaking milk.

"Closure," I told Carmen as we buckled up. "I did the crime, I served the time, and I got my revengeЧand my reward." Looking down at the little one on my breast, it was hard to imagine that IЧor anyoneЧcould ever have thought of him as a punishment. I felt like the hero with the golden fleece or something.

I still don't know what character I was playing at dinner with the Judge, what story we were acting out, but it must be a famous one, since he recognized it. I almost wish I'd asked him.


The End