璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第94部分

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perform　his　last　duty；　and　had　said　a　few　things　that　he　knew　were　unheard。　A　police　officer　explained　that　it　hadn‘t　been　the　driver‘s　fault。　The　brakes　had　failed。　Mechanical　defect。　Nobody‘s　fault；　really。　Just　one　of　those　things。　All　the　things　he‘d　said　before；　on　other　such　occasions；　trying　to　explain　to　some　innocent　person　why　the　main　part　of　his　world　had　just　ended；　as　though　it　mattered。　This　Mr　Kelly　was　a　tough　one；　the　officer　saw；　and　all　the　more　vulnerable　because　of　it。　His　wife　and　unborn　child；　whom　he　might　have　protected　against　any　hazard；　were　dead　by　an　accident。　Nobody　to　blame。　The　trucker；　a　family　man　himself；　was　in　the　hospital；　under　sedation　after　having　gone　under　his　rig　in　the　hope　of　finding　her　alive。　People　Kelly　had　been　working　with　sat　with　him；　and　would　help　him　make　arrangements。　There　was　nothing　else　to　be　done　for　a　man　who　would　have　accepted　hell　rather　than　this；　because　he‘d　seen　hell。　But　there　was　more　than　one　hell；　and　he　hadn‘t　seen　them　all　quite　yet。
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　　　　WithoutRemors
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Enfant　perdu
May
He‘d　never　know　why　he　stopped。　Kelly　pulled　his　Scout　over　to　the　shoulder　without　a　conscious　thought。　She　hadn‘t　had　her　hand　out　soliciting　a　ride。　She‘d　just　been　standing　at　the　side　of　the　road；　watching　the　cars　speed　past　in　a　spray　of　highway　grit　and　a　wake　of　fumes。　Her　posture　was　that　of　a　hitchhiker；　one　knee　locked；　the　other　bent。　Her　clothes　were　clearly　well　used　and　a　backpack　was　loosely　slung　over　one　shoulder。　Her　tawny；　shoulder…length　hair　moved　about　in　the　rush　of　air　from　the　traffic。　Her　face　showed　nothing；　but　Kelly　didn‘t　see　that　until　he　was　already　pressing　his　right　foot　on　the　brake　pedal　and　angling　onto　the　loose　rock　of　the　shoulder。　He　wondered　if　he　should　go　back　into　the　traffic；　then　decided　that　he　was　already　mitted；　though　to　what　he　didn‘t　know；　exactly。　The　girl‘s　eyes　followed　the　car　and；　as　he　looked　in　his　rearview　mirror；　she　shrugged　without　any　particular　enthusiasm　and　walked　towards　him。　The　passenger　window　was　down　already；　and　in　a　few　seconds　she　was　there。
‘Where　you　goin‘？‘　she　asked。
That　surprised　Kelly。　He　thought　the　first　question　…Need　a　ride？　…　was　supposed　to　be　his。　He　hesitated　for　a　second　or　two；　looking　at　her。　Twenty…one；　perhaps；　but　old　for　her　years。　Her　face　wasn‘t　dirty；　but　neither　was　it　clean；　perhaps　from　the　wind　and　dust　on　the　interstate。　She　wore　a　man‘s　cotton　shirt　that　hadn‘t　been　ironed　in　months；　and　her　hair　was　knotted。　But　what　surprised　him　most　of　all　were　her　eyes。　Fetchingly　gray…green；　they　stared　past　Kelly　into　。。。　what？　He‘d　seen　the　look　before　often　enough；　but　only　on　weary　men。　He‘d　had　the　look　himself；　Kelly　remembered；　but　even　then　he‘d　never　known　what　his　eyes　saw。　It　didn‘t　occur　to　him　that　he　wore　a　look　not　so　different　now。
‘Back　to　my　boat；‘　he　answered　finally；　not　knowing　what　else　to　say。　And　that　quickly；　her　eyes　changed。
‘You　have　a　boat？‘　she　asked。　Her　eyes　lit　up　like　a　child‘s；　a　smile　started　there　and　radiated　down　the　remainder　of　her　face；　as　though　he‘d　just　answered　an　important　question。　She　had　a　cute　gap　between　her　front　teeth；　Kelly　noticed。
‘Forty…footer　…　she‘s　a　diesel　cruiser。‘　He　waved　to　the　back　of　the　Scout；　whose　cargo　area　was　pletely　filled　with　cartons　of　groceries。　‘You　want　to　e　along？‘　he　asked；　also　without　thinking。
‘Sure！‘　Without　hesitation　she　yanked　open　the　door　and　tossed　her　backpack　on　the　floor　in　front　of　the　passenger　seat。
Pulling　back　into　traffic　was　dangerous。　Short　of　wheel…base　and　short　of　power；　the　Scout　wasn‘t　built　for　interstate…highway　driving；　and　Kelly　had　to　concentrate。　The　car　wasn‘t　fast　enough　to　go　in　any　other　lane　than　the　right；　and　with　people　ing　on　and　off　at　every　interchange；　he　had　to　pay　attention　because　the　Scout　wasn‘t　nimble　enough　to　avoid　all　the　idiots　who　were　heading　out　to　the　ocean　or　wherever　the　hell　people　went　on　a　three…day　weekend。
You　want　to　e　along？　he‘d　asked；　and　she‘d　said　Sure；　his　mind　reported　to　him。　What　the　hеll？　Kelly　frowned　in　frustration　at　the　traffic　because　he　didn‘t　know　the　answer；　but　then　there　were　a　lot　of　questions　to　which　he　hadn‘t　known　the　answers　in　the　last　six　months。　He　told　his　mind　to　be　quiet　and　watched　the　traffic；　even　though　it　kept　up　its　inquiries　in　a　nagging　sort　of　background　noise。　One‘s　mind；　after　all；　rarely　obeys　its　own　mands。
Memorial　Day　weekend；　he　thought。　The　cars　around　him　were　filled　with　people　rushing　home　from　work；　or　those　who‘d　already　made　that　trip　and　picked　up　their　families。　The　faces　of　children　stared　out　of　the　rear…seat　windows。　One　or　two　waved　at　him；　but　Kelly　pretended　not　to　notice。　It　was　hard　not　having　a　soul；　most　especially　when　you　could　remember　having　had　one。
Kelly　ran　a　hand　across　his　jaw；　feeling　the　sandpaper　texture。　The　hand　itself　was　dirty。　No　wonder　they‘d　acted　that　way　at　the　grocery　warehouse。　Letting　yourself　go；　Kelly。
Well；　who　the　hell　cares？
He　turned　to　look　at　his　guest　and　realized　that　he　didn‘t　know　her　name。　He　was　taking　her　to　his　boat；　and　he　didn‘t　know　her　name。　Amazing。　She　was　staring　forward；　her　face　serene。　It　was　a　pretty　face　in　profile。　She　was　thin　…　perhaps　willowy　was　the　right　word；　her　hair　halfway　between　blonde　and　brown。　Her　jeans　were　worn　and　torn　in　a　few　places；　and　had　begun　life　at　one　of　those　stores　where　they　charged　you　extra　to　sell　jeans　that　were　pre…faded　…　or　whatever　they　did　with　them。　Kelly　didn‘t　know　and　cared　less。　One　more　thing　not　to　care　about。
Christ；　how　did　you　ever　get　this　screwed　up？　his　mind　demanded　of　him。　He　knew　the　answer；　but　even　that　was　not　a　full　explanation。　Different　segments　of　the　organism　called　John　Terrence　Kelly　knew　different　parts　of　the　whole　story；　but　somehow　they‘d　never　all　e　together；　leaving　the　separate　fragments　of　what　had　once　been　a　tough；　smart；　decisive　man　to　blunder　about　in　confusion　…　and　despair？　There　was　a　happy　thought。
He　remembered　what　he‘d　once　been。　He　remembered　all　the　things　that　he　had　survived；　amazed　that　he　had　done　so。　And　perhaps　the　worst　torment　of　all　was　that　he　didn‘t　understand　what　had　gone　wrong。　Sure；　he　knew　what　had　happened；　but　those　things　had　all　been　on　the　outside；　and　somehow　his　understanding　had　gotten　lost；　leaving　him　alive　and　confused　and　without　purpose。　He　was　on　autopilot。　He　knew　that；　but　not　where　fate　was　taking　him。
She　didn‘t　try　to　talk；　whoever　she　was；　and　that　was　just　as　well；　Kelly　told　himself；　though　he　sensed　that　there　was　something　he　ought　to　know。　The　realization　came　as　a　surprise。　It　was　instinctual；　and　he‘d　always　trusted　his　instincts；　the　warning　chill　on　his　neck　and　forearms。　He　looked　around　at　the　traffic　and　Kelly　saw　no　particular　danger　other　than　cars　with　too　much　engine　under　the　hood　and　not　enough　brains　behind　the　wheel。　His　eyes　scanned　carefully　and　found　nothing。　But　the　warning　didn‘t　go　away；　and　Kelly　found　himself　checking　the　mirror　for　no　good　reason；　while　his　left　hand　wandered　down　between　his　legs　and　found　the　checkered　grips　of　the　Colt　automatic　that　hung　hidden　under　the　seat。　His　hand　was　stroking　the　weapon　before　he　realized　it。
Now　what　the　hell　did　you　do　that　for？　Kelly　pulled　his　hand　back　and　shook　his　head　with　a　grimace　of　frustration。　But　he　did　keep　checking　the　mirror　…　just　the　normal　watch　on　traffic；　he　lied　to　himself　for　the　next　twenty　minutes。
The　boatyard　was　a　swarm　of　activity。　The　three…day　weekend；　of　course。　Cars　were　zipping　about　too　fast　for　the　small　and　badly　paved　parking　lot；　each　driver　trying　to　evade　the　Friday　rush　that　each　was；　of　course；　helping　to　create。　At　least　here　the　Scout　came　into　its　own。　The　high　ground　clearance　and　visibility　gave　Kelly　an　advantage　as　he　maneuvered　to　Springer‘s　transom；　and　he　looped　around　to　back　up　to　the　slip　he‘d　left　six　hours　before。　It　was　a　relief；　to　crank　up　the　windows　and　lock　the　car。　His　adventure　on　the　highways　was　over；　and　the　safety　of　the　trackless　water　beckoned。
Springer　was　a　diesel…powered　motor　yacht；　forty…one　feet　long；　custom　built　but　similar　in　her　lines　and　internal　arrangements　to　a　Pacemaker　Coho。　She　was　not　especially　pretty；　but　she　had　two　sizable　cabins；　and　the　midships　salon　could　be　converted　easily　into　a　third。　Her　diesels　were　large　but　not　supercharged；　because　Kelly　preferred　a　large　fortable　engine　to　a　small　straining　one。　He　had　a　high…quality　marine　radar；　every　sort　of　munications　gear　that　he　could　legally　use；　and　navigation　aids　normally　reserved　for　offshore　fishermen。　The　fiberglass　hull　was　immaculate；　and　there　was　not　a　speck　of　rust　on　the　chromed　rails；　though　he　had　defiberately　done　without　the　topside　varnish　that　most　yacht…owners　cherished　because　it　wasn‘t　worth　the　maintenance　time。　Springer　was　a　workboat；　or　was　supposed　to　be。
Kelly　and　his　guest　alighted　from　the　car。　He　opened　the　cargo　door　and　started　carrying　the　cartons　aboard。　The　young　lady；　he　saw；　had　the　good　sense　to　stay　out　of　the　way。
‘Yo；　Kelly！‘　a　voice　called　from　the　flying　bridge。
‘Yeah；　Ed；　what　was　it？‘
‘Bad　gauge。　The　generator　brushes　were　a　little　worn；　and　I　replaced　them；　but　I　think　it　was　the　gauge。　Replaced　that；　too。‘　Ed　Murdock；　the　yard‘s　chief　mechanic；　started　down；　and　spotted　the　girl　as　he　began　to　step　off　the　ladder。　Murdock　tripped　on　the　last　step　and　nearly　landed　flat　on　his　face　in　surprise。　The　mechanic‘s　face　evaluated　the　girl　quickly　and　approvingly。
‘Anything　else？‘　Kelly　asked　pointedly。
‘Topped　off　the　tanks。　The　engines　are　warm；‘　Murdock　said；　turning　back　to　his　customer。　‘It‘s　all　on　your　bill。‘
‘Okay；　thanks；　Ed。‘
‘Oh；　Chip　told　me　to　tell　you；　somebody　else　made　an　offer　in　case　you　ever　want　to　sell　…‘
Kelly　cut　him　off。　‘No　chance；　Ed。‘
‘She‘s　a　jewel；　Kelly；‘　Murdock　said　as　he　gathered　his　tools　and　walked　away　smiling；　pleased　with　himself　for　the　double　entendre。
It　took　several　seconds　for　Kelly　to　catch　that　one。　It　evoked　a　belated　grunt　of　semi…amusement　as　he　loaded　the　last　of　the　groceries　into　the　salon。
‘What　do　I　do？‘　the　girl　asked。　She‘d　just　been　standing　there；　and　Kelly　had　the　impress