dk.coldfire-第33章

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tion　in　a　far　and　wondrous　place。　
　Holly　Thorne；　who　suddenly　liked　her　name；　knew　where　she　was　going　and　why。　
　She　knew　what　she　hoped　to　get　from　Jim　Ironheart…and　it　was　not　a　good　story；　journalistic　accolades；　a　Pulitzer。　What　she　wanted　from　him　was　better　than　that；　more　rewarding　and　enduring；　and　she　was　eager　to　confront　him　with　her　request。　
　The　funny　thing　was；　if　he　agreed　and　gave　her　what　she　wanted；　she　might　be　buying　into　more　than　excitement；　joy；　and　a　meaningful　existence。　She　knew　there　was　danger　in　it；　as　well。　If　she　got　what　she　asked　from　him；　she　might　be　dead　a　year　from　now；　a　month　from　now　or　next　week。　But　for　the　moment；　at　least；　she　focused　on　the　prospect　of　joy　and　was　not　deterred　by　the　possibility　of　early　death　and　endless　darkness。　
　Part　TWo　Nowhere　can　a　secret　keep　always　secret　dark　and　deep；　half　so　well　as　in　the　past　buried　deep　to　last；　to　last。　
　Keep　it　in　your　own　dark　heart　otherwise　the　rumors　start。　
　After　many　years　have　buried　secrets　over　which　you　worried　no　confidant　can　then　betray　all　the　words　you　didn't　he　say。　
　Only　you　can　then　exhume　secrets　safe　within　the　tomb　of　memory；　of　memory；　within　the　tomb　of　memory。　
　…THE　ROOK　OF　COUNTED　SORROWS　In　the　real　world　as　in　dreams；　nothing　is　quite　what　it　seems。…THE　BOOK　OF　COUNTED　SORROWS　II　'I　　
　AUGUST　27　THROUGH　AUGUST　29
　
　Holly　changed　planes　in　Denver；　gained　two　time　zones　traveling　west；　and　arrived　at　at　Los　Angeles　International　at　eleven　o'clock　Monday　morning。　Unencumbered　by　luggage；　she　retrieved　her　rental　car　from　the　parking　garage；　drove　south　along　the　coast　to　Laguna　Niguel；　and　reached　Jim　Ironheart's　house　by　twelve…thirty。　
　She　parked　in　front　of　his　garage；　followed　the　tile…trimmed　walkway　directly　to　his　front　door；　and　rang　the　bell。　He　did　not　answer。　She　rang　it　again。　He　still　did　not　answer。　She　rang　it　repeatedly；　until　a　reddish　impression　of　the　button　marked　the　pad　of　her　right　thumb。　
　Stepping　back；　she　studied　the　first…　and　second…floor　windows。　
　Plantation　shutters　were　closed　over　all　of　them。　She　could　see　the　wide　slats　through　the　glass。　
　〃I　know　you're　in　there；〃　she　said　quietly。　
　She　returned　to　her　car；　put　the　windows　down；　and　sat　behind　the　steering　wheel；　waiting　for　him　to　e　out。　Sooner　or　later　he　would　need　food；　or　laundry　detergent；　or　medical　attention；　or　toilet　paper；　something；　and　then　she　would　have　him。　
　Unfortunately；　the　weather　was　not　conducive　to　a　long　stakeout。　
　The　past　few　days　had　been　warm　but　mild。　Now　the　August　heat　had　returned　like　a　bad　dragon　in　a　storybook：　scorching　the　land　with　its　fiery　breath。　
　The　palm　trees　drooped　and　the　flowers　began　to　wilt　in　the　blistering　sun。　
　Behind　all　of　the　elaborate　watering　systems　that　maintained　the　lush　landscaping；　the　dispossessed　desert　waited　to　reassert　itself　Baking　as　swiftly　and　evenly　as　a　muffin　in　a　convection　oven；　Holly　finally　put　up　the　windows；　started　the　car；　and　switched　on　the　air　conditioner。　
　The　cold　draft　was　heavenly；　but　before　long　the　car　began　to　overheat；　the　needle　rose　swiftly　toward　the　red　section　of　the　arc　on　the　temperature　gauge。　
　At　one…fifteen；　just　three…quarters　of　an　hour　after　she　had　arrived；　Holly　threw　the　car　in　reverse；　backed　out　of　the　driveway；　and　returned　to　the　Laguna　Hills　Motor　Inn。　She　changed　into　tan　shorts　and　a　canary…yellow　calypso　blouse　that　left　her　belly　bare。　She　put　on　her　new　running　shoes；　but　without　socks　this　time。　At　a　nearby　Sav…On　drugstore；　she　bought　a　vinyl…strap　folding　lounge　chair；　beach　towel；　tube　of　tanning　cream；　picnic　cooler；　bag　of　ice；　six…pack　of　diet　soda；　and　a　Travis　McGee　paperback　by　John　D。　MacDonald。　She　already　had　sunglasses。　
　She　was　back　at　Ironheart's　house　on　Bougainvillea　Way　before　twoù　thirty。　She　tried　the　doorbell　again。　He　refused　to　answer。　
　Somehow　she　knew　he　was　in　there。　Maybe　she　was　a　little　psychic。　
　She　carried　the　ice　chest；　folding　lounger；　and　other　items　around　the　side　of　the　house　to　the　lawn　in　back。　She　set　up　the　chair　on　the　grass；　just　beyond　the　redwood…covered　patio。　In　a　few　minutes；　she　was　fy。　
　In　the　MacDonald　novel；　Travis　McGee　was　sweltering　down　there　in　Fort　Lauderdale；　where　they　were　having　a　heatwave　so　intense　it　even　took　the　bounce　out　of　the　beach　bunnies。　Holly　had　read　the　book　before　she　chose　to　reread　it　now　because　she　had　remembered　that　the　plot　unfolded　against　a　background　of　tropical　heat　and　humidity。　
　Steamy　Florida；　rendered　in　MacDonald's　vivid　prose；　made　the　dry　air　of　Laguna　Niguel　seem　less　torrid　by　parison；　even　though　it　had　to　be　well　over　ninety　degrees。　
　After　about　half　an　hour；　she　glanced　at　the　house　and　saw　Jim　Ironheart　standing　at　the　big　kitchen　window。　He　was　watching　her。　
　She　waved。　
　He　did　not　wave　back　at　her。　
　He　walked　away　from　the　window　but　did　not　e　outside。　
　Opening　a　diet　soda；　returning　to　the　novel；　she　relished　the　feel　of　the　sun　on　her　bare　legs。　She　was　not　worried　about　a　burn。　She　already　had　a　little　tan。　Besides；　though　blond　and　fair…skinned；　she　had　a　tanning　geno　that　insured　against　a　burn　as　long　as　she　didn't　indulge　in　marathon　sunbathing。　
　After　a　while；　when　she　got　up　to　readjust　the　lounger　so　she　could　lie　on　her　stomach；　she　saw　Jim　Ironheart　standing　on　the　patio；　just　outside　the　sliding　glass　door　of　his　family　room。　He　was　in　rumpled　slacks　and　a　wrinkled　T…shirt；　unshaven。　His　hair　was　lank　and　oily。　He　didn't　look　well。　
　He　was　about　fifteen　feet　away；　so　his　voice　carried　easily　to　her。　
　〃What　do　you　think　you're　doing？〃　〃Bronzing　up　a　little。〃　
　〃Please　leave；　Miss　Thorne。〃　
　〃I　need　to　talk　to　you。〃　
　〃We　have　nothing　to　talk　about。〃　
　〃Hah！〃　He　went　back　inside　and　slid　the　door　shut。　She　heard　the　latch　click。　
　After　lying　on　her　stomach　for　almost　an　hour；　dozing　instead　of　reading；　she　decided　she'd　had　enough　sun。　Besides；　at　three…thirty　in　the　afternoon；　the　best　tanning　rays　were　past。　
　She　moved　the　lounger；　cooler；　and　the　rest　of　her　paraphernalia　onto　the　shaded　patio。　She　opened　a　second　diet　soda　and　picked　up　the　MacDonald　novel　again。　
　At　four　o'clock　she　heard　the　family…room　door　sliding　open　again。　
　His　footsteps　approached　and　stopped　behind　her。　He　stood　there　for　a　while；　evidently　looking　down　at　her。　Neither　of　them　spoke；　and　she　pretended　to　keep　reading。　
　His　continued　silence　was　eerie。　She　began　to　think　about　his　dark　side　…the　eight　shotgun　rounds　he　had　pumped　into　Norman　Rink　in　Atlanta；　for　one　thing…and　she　grew　increasingly　nervous　until　she　decided　that　he　was　trying　to　spook　her。　
　When　Holly　picked　up　her　can　of　soda　from　the　top　of　the　cooler；　took　a　sip；　sighed　with　pleasure　at　the　taste；　and　put　the　can　down　again　all　without　letting　her　hand　tremble　even　once；　Ironheart　at　last　came　around　the　lounge　chair　and　stood　where　she　could　see　him。　He　was　still　slovenly　and　unshaven。　Dark　circles　ringed　his　eyes。　He　had　an　unhealthy　pallor。　
　〃What　do　you　want　from　me？〃　he　asked。　
　〃That'll　take　a　while　to　explain。〃　
　〃I　don't　have　a　while。〃　
　〃How　long　do　you　have？〃　〃One　minute；〃　he　said。　
　She　hesitated；　then　shook　her　head。　〃Can't　do　it　in　a　minute。　I'll　just　wait　here　till　you've　got　more　time。〃　
　He　stared　at　her　intimidatingly。　
　She　found　her　place　in　the　novel。　
　He　said；　〃I　could　call　the　police；　have　you　put　off　my　property。〃　
　〃Why　don't　you　do　that？〃　she　said。　
　He　stood　there　a　few　seconds　longer；　impatient　and　uncertain；　then　reentered　the　house。　Slid　the　door　shut。　Locked　it。　
　〃Don't　take　forever；〃　Holly　muttered。　〃In　about　another　hour；　I'm　gonna　have　to　use　your　bathroom。〃　
　Around　her；　two　hummingbirds　drew　nectar　from　the　flowers；　the　shadows　lengthened；　and　exploding　bubbles　made　hollow　ticking　sounds　inside　her　open　can　of　soda。　
　Down　in　Florida；　there　were　also　hummingbirds　and　cool　shadows；　icy　bottles　of　Dos　Equis　instead　of　diet　cola；　and　Travis　McGee　was　getting　into　deeper　trouble　by　the　paragraph。　
　Her　stomach　began　to　grumble。　She　had　eaten　breakfast　at　the　airport　in　Dubuque；　surprised　that　her　appetite　had　not　been　suppressed　forever　by　the　macabre　images　burned　into　her　mind　at　the　crash　scene。　She　had　missed　lunch；　thanks　to　the　stakeout；　now　she　was　famished。　Life　goes　on　Fifteen　minutes　ahead　of　Holly's　bathroom　deadline；　Ironheart　returned。　He　had　showered　and　shaved。　He　was　dressed　in　a　blue　boatnec　shirt；　white　cotton　slacks；　and　white　canvas　Top…Siders。　
　She　was　flattered　by　his　desire　to　make　a　better　appearance。　
　〃Okay；〃　he　said；　〃what　do　you　want？〃　〃I　need　to　use　your　facilities　first。〃　
　A　long…suffering　look　lengthened　his　face。　〃Okay；　okay；　but　then　we　talk；　get　it　over　with；　and　you　go。〃　
　She　followed　him　into　the　family　room；　which　was　adjacent　to　an　open　breakfast　area；　which　was　adjacent　to　an　open　kitchen。　The　mismatched　furniture　appeared　to　have　been　purchased　on　the　cheap　at　a　warehouse　clearance　sale　immediately　after　he　had　graduated　from　college　and　taken　his　first　teaching　job。　It　was　clean　but　well　worn。　Hundreds　of　paperback　books　filled　free…standing　cases。　But　there　was　no　artwork　of　any　kind　on　the　walls；　and　no　decor　pieces　such　as　vases　or　bowls　or　sculptures　or　potted　plants　lent　warmth　to　the　room。　
　He　showed　her　the　powder　room　off　the　main　entrance　foyer。　No　wall　paper；　white　paint。　No　designer　soaps　shaped　like　rosebuds；　just　a　bar　of　Ivory。　No　colorful　or　embroidered　handtowels；　just　a　roll　of　Bounty　standing　on　the　counter。　
　As　she　closed　the　door；　she　looked　back　at　him　and　said；　〃Maybe　we　could　talk　over　an　early　supper。　I'm　starved。〃　
　When　she　finished　in　the　bathroom；　she　peeked　in　his　living　room。　
　It　was　decorated…to　use　the　word　as　loosely　as　the　language　police　would　allow　…in　a　style　best　described　as　Early　Garage　Sale；　though　it　was　even　more　Spartan　than　the　family　room。　His　house　was　surprisingly　modest　for　a　man　who　had　won　six　million　in　the　state　lottery；　but　his　furniture　made　the　house　seem　Rockefellerian　by　parison。　
　She　went　out　to　the　kitchen　and　found　him　waiting　at　the　round　breakfast　table。　
　〃I　thought　you'd　be　cooking　something；〃　she　said；　pulling　out　a　chair　and　sitting　opposite　him。　
　He　was　not　amused。　〃What　do　you　want？〃　〃Let　me　start　by　telling　you　what　I　don　't　want；〃　she　said。　〃I　don't　wan　to　write　about　you；　I've　given　up　reporting；　I've　had　it　with　journalism　Now；　you　believe　that　or　not；　but　it's　true。　The　good　work　you're　doing　can　only　be　hampered　if　you're　being　hounded　by　media　types；　and　lives　will　be　lost　that　you　might　otherwise　save。　I　see　that　now。〃　
　〃Good。〃　
　〃And　I　don't　want　to　blackmail　you。　Anyway；　judging　by　the　unconscionably　lavish　style　in　which　you　live；　I　doubt　you've　got　more　than　eighteen　bucks　left。〃　
　He　did　not　smile。　He　just　stared　at　her　with　those　gas　flame…blue　eyes。　
　She　said；　〃I　don't　want　to　inhibit　your　work　or　promise　it　in　any　way。　I　don't　want　to　venerate　you　as　the　Second　ing；　marry　you；　bear　your　children；　or　extract　from　you　the　meaning　of　life。　Anyway；　only　Elvis　Presley　knows　the　meaning　of　life；　and　he's　in　a　state　of　suspended　animation　in　an　alien　vault　in　a　cave　on　Mars。〃　
　His　face　remained　as　immobile　as　stone。