A Crying Shame (110 page)

That would only make you more interesting.”

Her smile touched him as none ever had, as intimately as a caress.
Very well. Then that's the way it shall be.”

Oh?” His returning smile held more warmth than she had ever seen from his lips.
Well now . . . that has something of a permanent ring to it.”

Peut-etre que oui
. But would you have objections to that?”

None.” He touched her waist.
But isn't this quite sudden and isn't it something a man first asks?”

I'm a very liberated woman.”

Ah. Well good. How liberated?”

She smiled, stopped, and pulled his head down, kissing him. She whispered something positively pornographic in his ear.

How crude, Linda!” He feigned great shock.
I much prefer the term
oral sex.'”

After escorting Linda back to the house, Jon walked down the road for a time, then stepped over the fence and entered the gloom of the swamp. He found the spot where the girls had been seized and assaulted, found blood spots on the moss and a larger spot of blood some yards from the rape scene. The Link who had helped her escape, he concluded. Badly hurt. The blood trailed into the swamp, Jon losing it at water's edge.

Again, he sensed he was being watched, but this time was not sure if he was being observed by the maddened Links or their more normal relations.

He was suddenly torn between right and wrong. Did he really want to kill those who meant him no harm; who would risk their lives, to save a young girl?

Goddamn it!” he cursed in frustration.

He turned away from the eyes he knew were watching and made his way back to the blacktop. The mercenary was irritated at his personal vacillation on a subject that had once been so firm in his thoughts.

He shook his head angrily and walked back to the plantation house, arriving there just seconds after Mike Saucier's patrol car.

Jon checked his watch. He had been gone for only a few minutes, not nearly enough time for Mike to drive from town. The sheriff must have been close to Despair when he received the call.

Doing what?

Nothing around here but swamp for miles and miles.

Theft, maybe.

Jon was wary of Mike Saucier. Something about the man wasn't adding up, wasn't slipping into the right niche. And Jon was a hunch player from way back.

Linda met him at the front walk.
Mike got out here very quickly,” she remarked.
It usually takes them about thirty-five to forty-five minutes. Believe me, I know.”

He must have been close.”

Doing what? Nothing but swamp for miles around.”

Jon shrugged, a quizzical light briefly appearing in his eyes as if he had suddenly recalled something.
Who knows?”

Mike walked over to them.
Which girl is it, Jon?” he asked, wiping sweat from his face. The fierce heat of dog days was like a blast furnace in central Louisiana.

I didn't have time to ask her name,” Jon replied.
But there are three more dead Links. Was there more than one girl?”

Yes.” They were walking toward the plantation house.
Christy Nelson was bicycling with Jean Laborne. They . . .” He cut his sentence short as his eyes found the huge solid bulk of Karl von Pappen.
Who in the hell are you?”