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"But the shop doesn't close for another hour!"
He rolled his eyes. "Please. I may be a crack detective but a bookseller, I'm
not. Go on."
Grace shook her head as though completely baffled by Gabriel's behavior, but
she gathered her things obediently and headed for the door.
She put on her coat and paused to give him a final puzzled look.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
He hopped down, loped over to her, and gave her a big hug. She stepped back,
further alarmed.
"I'm Napoleon ice cream, doll face. Now get the heck outta here." He gave her
chin a faux punch.
Grace fled.
Gabriel watched her go from the front window of the shop, laughing huffingly
to himself. The laughter kept on coming, and coming and coming. After a while
it sounded maniacal, even to him.
"Malia?" he whispered. The phone receiver was cradled in the crook of his
neck. It was nearly midnight and he'd sworn he wouldn't use the private number
she'd given him, not so soon, not so eagerly, but his body was damp from his
second shower and the mere weight of the bed sheet made his flesh sing
achingly.
"Gabriel?"
"Sorry it's so late."
"Can't sleep?"
"No."
She sighed. "Me neither. Come to me."
"On my way."
He hung up the phone, pulled on the first pair of jeans he stumbled upon on
the dark floor, and exited to the teeming night.
Chapter 5
The road was blocked, the truth was shunned, the white flag had been raised.
Reversal cost me all I had, and everything I'd braved.
Page 85
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
June 22,1993
It was eight A.M. the next morning when Gabriel pulled up outside the shop. It
was already open, and Gabriel felt a mild annoyance that Grace had come in
early and would witness his unusual point of origin this morning. He thought
about lying, but what did he have to excuse? His private life was none of
Grace's concern.
So he entered, determined not to be made to feel self-conscious. He hung up
his coat and headed for the coffee.
"You're out and about early this morning,"
Grace said. A slight frown creased the space between her eyes, but one glance
at it told Gabriel it was a suspicion, not a certainty. Good.
"Yup," he said. He poured the Java with a splash and sent it straight to his
lips. It was pure heaven. "Anything up?"
"I found a dealer in Philadelphia who had a book on Rada drum codes. It won't
get here 'til tomorrow, though."
Gabriel didn't ask her how she'd paid for it.
What was the point? He couldn't pay her back.
"Phone calls?" he asked instead.
"There was one on the answering machine this morning. From that Wolfgang
Ritter person in
Germany? He's really persistent."
Gabriel's heart gave a little lurch. Wolfgang
Ritter Granddad's brother. He'd nearly forgotten!
"Do you have that number again, Grade?" he asked quickly, not at all sure what
he'd done with the last one.
Grace ripped a sheet of paper from a notepad on her desk and handed it to him.
"You're going to call him?" she asked doubtfully.
"No, just thought I'd memorize his number for the fun of it," he quipped.
Grace's frown crease reappeared. She studied him closely.
"Guess you were already out this morning when he called," she said carefully.
"Yeah. Probably just missed him," he re-
sponded casually, throwing in a yawn and stretch
for effect.
There. She'd done it. She'd gotten him to lie. He cursed himself inwardly.
Women!
Her frown cleared a tad. "Any particular reason why you're suddenly interested
in Wolfgang
Ritter? Is it about the case?"
"No, Gracie, it's not about the case. You know, you need to get a life," he
teased. He headed for the back room and the privacy of his studio extension.
But Grace didn't smile, she just chewed her lower lip again worriedly. His
body wasn't buying it, either. Inside, his stomach had turned to lead.
The connection went through without a hitch.
The ringing of the phone sounded close, as if it were across the street
instead of across the globe.
Gabriel's heart thumped four times for every brring.
"Schloss Ritter hier," a woman's voice answered pleasantly.
"Wolfgang Ritter, please?" he sounded young and nervous, even to himself.
"Ein moment, bitte."
He waited, trying not to think about the phone bill. Maybe it was night there,
he hadn't the first idea. Or maybe the man God, he must be in his eighties at
least was busy having a heart attack. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]