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. I can say someone saw something, try that out and see if I get a reaction. Maybe someone did see something.Someone usually does. Spence shifted on the couch, his big frame leaning forward. I can t let that girl be hurt.She doesn tunderstand how people are.She believes the best about everyone, but she doesn t know. Someone has to open her eyes to the truth, Robinson agreed. She would be very grateful to anyonewho did, don t you think? Larry Spence nodded slowly. I could do that for her.I could help her see how things really are.All Ihave to do is get him to slip up, say the wrong thing.I just have to keep after him, that s all.Yeah, juststay on it. He didn t know that Findo Gask was listening to him with the same amount of interest that youngchildren evidence when they watch ants before stepping on them.He didn t know that he was justanother wild card in a game being played by others, ready to be used when needed.If nothing else, thedemon thought, the good deputy sheriff will help distract the troublesome Miss Freemark.The younglady was proving to be a much larger obstacle than he had anticipated.But all that would change in the next twenty-four hours.Tonight s events had dictated the need for that. It s the right thing to do, Larry Spence was mumbling to himself, nodding for emphasis.The demon yawned.Bored, he sent a fresh nightmare into the head of the young boy sleeping in thedeputy sheriff s back bedroom, then listened idly through the phone as the boy woke, screaming, to runfor his father s reassuring arms.-=O=-***-=O=-Scattered snowflakes swirled on cold night winds across the mostly darkened expanse of SinnissippiPark.Like white moths drawn by the incandescent brightness of the pole lights bracketing the roadways,they spun and twisted in small explosions of white.Elsewhere, moonlight peeked through breaking cloudsto sparkle off frosted iron stanchions and crusted patches of road ice.Snowdrifts climbed tree trunks andhedges, a soft white draping against the velvet black.Ray Childress finished locking down the toboggan slide, placing chains across steps and loading ramps,hooking warning signs in place, and closing up the storage shed with its equipment and parts.It was quietin the park, the last of the cars dispersed, the last of the people gone home.Trail lights still burned downthe length of the slide and out along the bayou s edge where the ice had been cleared for skating, butonly shadows shifted in the glare.Ray paused in the act of padlocking the shed and stared out at the darkness below.Damned odd, he Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlwas thinking, ice breaking apart like that, all at once.He d tested it himself earlier in the afternoon.He dgotten four inches, solid, on several bores and no indication at all of a weakening on the run.Damned odd.He had been a park employee for a lot of years, and he d run this slide during the winter months formost of them.He had seen a lot of strange things in that time, some of them of the head-scratchingvariety, but never anything like this.A hole in the ice for no reason.Standing there, thinking it over, he heard the unmistakable sound, sharp and penetrating in the stillness ofthe night, of ice tightening a slow, almost leisurely crackling, like glass crunching underfoot.He turned and looked.Twenty years, and this had never happened before.He was a thorough, methodical man, one who followed through on what he started and made sure thejob was done right.When something difficult arose in his work, he made it a point to understand thenature of the problem so that it wouldn t happen again, or so that if it did, he would be ready.Impulsively, almost stubbornly, he snatched up his four-cell flashlight and started down the slope.Hetook his time, picking his way carefully over the icy spots, finding solid footing with each step.He justcouldn t help himself he had to have a look.He was being silly, doing it now, when it was so dark,instead of waiting for morning.But he wanted to see what had happened before someone else did so hecould have a chance to think about it.It wouldn t take long, after all, just to take a look.Myriad pairs of lantern eyes followed his descent toward the bayou, peering out from the gloom of thesurrounding trees, tracking his movements, but he didn t see them.His breath clouded the air before him as he eased down along the toboggan slide to the river bank andmade his way past the chute where it opened onto the ice.Carol was off with the church guild andwouldn t be back anytime soon, so there was no hurry about getting home.He shuffled his way acrossthe ice with slow, steady steps, keeping to the edges of the shoveled area so that his boots could findpurchase [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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. I can say someone saw something, try that out and see if I get a reaction. Maybe someone did see something.Someone usually does. Spence shifted on the couch, his big frame leaning forward. I can t let that girl be hurt.She doesn tunderstand how people are.She believes the best about everyone, but she doesn t know. Someone has to open her eyes to the truth, Robinson agreed. She would be very grateful to anyonewho did, don t you think? Larry Spence nodded slowly. I could do that for her.I could help her see how things really are.All Ihave to do is get him to slip up, say the wrong thing.I just have to keep after him, that s all.Yeah, juststay on it. He didn t know that Findo Gask was listening to him with the same amount of interest that youngchildren evidence when they watch ants before stepping on them.He didn t know that he was justanother wild card in a game being played by others, ready to be used when needed.If nothing else, thedemon thought, the good deputy sheriff will help distract the troublesome Miss Freemark.The younglady was proving to be a much larger obstacle than he had anticipated.But all that would change in the next twenty-four hours.Tonight s events had dictated the need for that. It s the right thing to do, Larry Spence was mumbling to himself, nodding for emphasis.The demon yawned.Bored, he sent a fresh nightmare into the head of the young boy sleeping in thedeputy sheriff s back bedroom, then listened idly through the phone as the boy woke, screaming, to runfor his father s reassuring arms.-=O=-***-=O=-Scattered snowflakes swirled on cold night winds across the mostly darkened expanse of SinnissippiPark.Like white moths drawn by the incandescent brightness of the pole lights bracketing the roadways,they spun and twisted in small explosions of white.Elsewhere, moonlight peeked through breaking cloudsto sparkle off frosted iron stanchions and crusted patches of road ice.Snowdrifts climbed tree trunks andhedges, a soft white draping against the velvet black.Ray Childress finished locking down the toboggan slide, placing chains across steps and loading ramps,hooking warning signs in place, and closing up the storage shed with its equipment and parts.It was quietin the park, the last of the cars dispersed, the last of the people gone home.Trail lights still burned downthe length of the slide and out along the bayou s edge where the ice had been cleared for skating, butonly shadows shifted in the glare.Ray paused in the act of padlocking the shed and stared out at the darkness below.Damned odd, he Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlwas thinking, ice breaking apart like that, all at once.He d tested it himself earlier in the afternoon.He dgotten four inches, solid, on several bores and no indication at all of a weakening on the run.Damned odd.He had been a park employee for a lot of years, and he d run this slide during the winter months formost of them.He had seen a lot of strange things in that time, some of them of the head-scratchingvariety, but never anything like this.A hole in the ice for no reason.Standing there, thinking it over, he heard the unmistakable sound, sharp and penetrating in the stillness ofthe night, of ice tightening a slow, almost leisurely crackling, like glass crunching underfoot.He turned and looked.Twenty years, and this had never happened before.He was a thorough, methodical man, one who followed through on what he started and made sure thejob was done right.When something difficult arose in his work, he made it a point to understand thenature of the problem so that it wouldn t happen again, or so that if it did, he would be ready.Impulsively, almost stubbornly, he snatched up his four-cell flashlight and started down the slope.Hetook his time, picking his way carefully over the icy spots, finding solid footing with each step.He justcouldn t help himself he had to have a look.He was being silly, doing it now, when it was so dark,instead of waiting for morning.But he wanted to see what had happened before someone else did so hecould have a chance to think about it.It wouldn t take long, after all, just to take a look.Myriad pairs of lantern eyes followed his descent toward the bayou, peering out from the gloom of thesurrounding trees, tracking his movements, but he didn t see them.His breath clouded the air before him as he eased down along the toboggan slide to the river bank andmade his way past the chute where it opened onto the ice.Carol was off with the church guild andwouldn t be back anytime soon, so there was no hurry about getting home.He shuffled his way acrossthe ice with slow, steady steps, keeping to the edges of the shoveled area so that his boots could findpurchase [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]