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.M., too early for the Sparkses to be awake.“We won’t be going anywhere for a while,” Dann said.“Might as well get comfortable.”The Mustang made a hump in the snow, its chrome side mirrors all that distinguished it from other humps, probably shrubs.Eventually, she would have to dig the car out, but until snowplows came through there’d be no place to go.Dann was right.She might as well relax until daylight, when the Sparkses would be up and around.It galled her, though, being trapped.Behind her she could hear Dann shuffling the cards.“Gin?” He had smoothed the chenille bedspread and had dealt two hands, the deck centered between them, a discard faceup.Catching Dixie’s eye, he wiggled his heavy brows so comically she almost smiled.What the hell.They’d get through the day a lot easier if they were both comfortable.Might as well start by letting Dann wash up.She picked up her keys from the windowsill where she’d laid them the night before and tossed them to Dann.So far he’d been a model prisoner, but she wasn’t about to get close enough for him to hook one of those tree-limb arms around her neck.While he worked the handcuff lock awkwardly with his left hand, she retrieved the.45 from the floor beside the cot, took the gun’s magazine from her pocket, shoved it in place, and sat down in one of the wooden chairs.When Dann had freed himself, she held out her hand for the keys.“Five minutes,” she said.“Right.We’re on a tight schedule here.”“You need more time than that, maybe we’ll get a doctor in to check you over, see if you’re getting enough fiber in your diet.”“Flannigan, we got a bathroom here with no window, no sharp objects, no chemicals to build a bomb—on the off chance that I knew how to build a bomb.I’m flattered you think I’m so crafty, but short of stopping up the plumbing, I don’t think I can create much chaos in there.”“Four and a half minutes.”He shot her a dark look and slammed the door.Dixie laid the gun and keys on the table.She emptied a packet of coffee in the automatic dripolator positioned on a pine shelf that served as a sideboard.Having filled it with water the night before, she now plugged it in.She inspected two cups for spiders.The pot gurgled, filling the air with a rich coffee aroma.Scooping up one of the gin rummy hands—two aces; king, ten, and three of hearts; five of spades; deuce of clubs—she thought about checking out the other hand, wondered if Dann had already seen it, and before she could make up her mind, the bathroom door opened.Drops of water clung to the front of Dann’s dark hair.His shirttail was tucked in neatly.Being shut in together would be less frustrating, she realized, if Dann weren’t so obviously male.She tossed him the keys.“You’ll have to double-lock the cuffs to keep them from tightening down as you move.”“Ah, yes.‘Trust not the deviant mind, though it be dulled by sloth or drink or age; ‘tis nonetheless twisted and therefore… treacherous.’ Better lock me up, Flannigan.No telling how much mayhem I’d cause if allowed to move about freely.”“Fancy yourself an intellectual, do you, Dann?”He bounced the keys a few inches into the air, watched them clink back into his palm.“A student, Flannigan.Merely a student of life.”“Especially when you’re a few hours in the bottle, right?”He flushed, which surprised her.Most drunks she’d known were hardened to criticism about their drinking, always certain they had it under control.She must have hit a nerve.He bounced the keys in his hand again, making no move toward the handcuff.“Being chained to this bed might make sense if there were somewhere for me to go.How far you think I’d get with four feet of snow on the ground?”Dixie couldn’t argue the four feet of snow.“I don’t cotton to spending another day and night cramped up with one arm anchored to that friggin headboard.”Better than a cot with no canvas.Dixie sympathized, but she couldn’t let Dann roam freely about the cabin.He probably had a whole bag of tricks she hadn’t seen yet.She aimed the.45 at his kneecap.Bunching his fist around the keys, he pointed to the phone.“Say I did get free.Call the sheriff.A snowmobile would run me down in no time.”With each word, she could see his anger mounting.“Dann, you’ll be a damn sight less comfortable with a busted leg.”“And you’d have some explaining to do.Listen to how quiet it is out there.Think that gunshot won’t ring out all over the countryside?”Dixie reached behind her.The gun never wavering, she pulled the wool blanket off her cot and wrapped it around her gun hand.“Now nobody will hear the shot.”Dann stood his ground, blue eyes fierce in the lamplight.“I don’t think you’ll do it, Flannigan.You won’t shoot me in cold blood.”“Think again.” Dixie cocked the.45, the click barely audible through the folds of wool.“Remember those jailhouse stories you heard?” She hoped he’d heard the meanest ones [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]