Free The Girl With the Long Green Heart by Lawrence Block Page B

able to put a lid on. But I didn’t want any more to drink, not now.
    “John.”
    I turned to her.
    “I hope you get what you want, John.”
    We looked at each other. She was curled up on that couch beside me like a large cat in front of a fireplace. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to make her purr.
    “John—”
    I reached for her; she came to me. She smelled as clean and alive as a newly mowed lawn. I kissed her, and she went rigid and made a weird little sound deep in her throat, and then her arms were tight around me and the tension was gone and we kissed again.
    We broke. I lit two cigarettes and gave one of them to her. Her hand was trembling. She dropped the cigarette, and I got down on my hands and knees and chased it. It had bounced under the couch. I picked it up and rubbed the spot where the carpet was lightly scorched. She took it from me and drew on it, coughed, crushed it out in the ashtray. She straightened up and closed her eyes tight. Her hands bunched up into nervous little fists.
    “I didn’t want this to happen, John.”
    I said nothing.
    “I don’t, I can’t, I—”
    I waited.
    “It has to be real. I don’t want another...I can’t...it has to mean something. It has to—”
    I stood up. She hesitated, then got to her feet. I kissed her and held her close. Her body pressed against me all the way. I kissed her again and crushed her closer.
    “Yes,” she said.
    Afterward she lay on her side with her eyes closed and a lazy grin on her lips. She made a sweet purring sound. I got out of her bed and padded into the living room. The ice had melted. I got fresh ice from the refrigerator and made stiff drinks for both of us. I brought the drinks and our cigarettes back to the bedroom. She had not changed position. She still lay on her side, the same sweet ghost of a smile on her lips. She was still purring.
    I put the drinks and the cigarettes on the bedside table and kissed her.
    “Mmmmm,” she said. She opened her eyes and yawned luxuriously. “Oh, God,” she said. “I really didn’t want this to happen.”
    “Neither did I.”
    “But I’m glad it did. What time is it?”
    “Almost one.”
    “Is it that late already? I thought it was about ten o’clock.”
    “That was three hours ago.”
    “Maybe you’d better get dressed.”
    “I guess so.”
    “I wish you could sleep here, but I think you should probably sleep at your hotel. I don’t want Wally to know about this. Actions above and beyond the call of duty. He might even approve, goddamn him. But I don’t want him to know about it, or Doug Rance either.”
    “Don’t worry.”
    She had a special beauty nude. Most women look better clothed. Bodies are imperfect. Clothes hide, and also promise, and the promise is too often better than the fulfillment of it. Not so with Evvie.
    She still wore the jade heart. I touched it, let my fingers trail down to her breasts. She purred again.
    “I’ll get dressed and drive you back.”
    “Don’t be silly.”
    “Well, you can’t walk, for God’s sake.”
    “Why not? It’s a nice night.”
    “It’s a long walk.”
    “How far?”
    “Nine or ten blocks, I think. All the way down to North Union and then over to the hotel. Let me drive you, John.”
    “I feel like walking.”
    I dressed. I finished my drink and she worked on hers. It was late and the night outside was cold and quiet.
    I said, “He’s going to keep you busy tomorrow morning with a million crazy questions. You know what to tell him. Then he may want to see me, or he may try to stall for more time. I don’t think I should let him stall too much. I’m going to grab a plane tomorrow afternoon.”
    “For Toronto?”
    “Yes.” I drew on a cigarette. “The more I think about it, the more I think I shouldn’t see him tomorrow. It would be good if he got tied up with something during the morning that kept him busy until two or three in the afternoon, and then by the time he was ready for me it would be too late and I