Daughter of Darkness by Ed Gorman Read Free Book Online

despite this, the Age of AIDS, the worst he got for all his activity was a quick case of the crabs, which horrified his mother ("I just hope Grandma Clark never finds out about this!") and secretly amused his father, who took to talking about it with the other middle-aged men at his private club (they were past bragging about their own sexual prowess, so now they boasted of their sons'). And then he met Jenny Stafford. And meeting her, after a long circuitous chain of circumstances, was what had led him to be in the parking lot of the Econo-Nite Motel tonight.
        He pulled the silver Jag over to the curb and punched in a number on his cell phone. It took six rings before there was an answer.
        When a voice came on, David snapped, "The kind of money I pay you, I expect better service."
        "I don't take this kind of crap, David. I've got too much business."
        David said, "We've got to make our move on her. It's time."
        "That's all you needed to say."
        "And there's somebody I want you to check out." He gave the man the particulars on the cab and the cabbie. "Find out as soon as you can and get back to me."
        "You'll be hearing from me," the man said. And hung up.
        
***
        
        The scene in the motel invaded her sleep and woke her up. She lay awake in Coffey's guest bed yearning for the days when she was a little girl. Her life had been happy then, and not just because she was rich. She'd felt satisfied and safe with her life. That was what had made her happy. She was something of a loner, true, but that was all right. She loved to read and play music and watch adventure shows. She was a huge Star Trek fan back then. Somewhere there was a family photo of her at age six with her three front teeth missing and a big grin splitting her face as two huge Spock ears sat stop her head. Then she thought: but how do I know that I was rich ? That I was happy ? That I liked Star Trek? The headache again. So strong she felt as if she wanted to vomit. A cold sweat all over her body. And trembling. Arms and legs. Trembling. Like a junkie.
        Unfamiliar room. And this miserable headache. And could she really trust Coffey? He seemed to be innocent. But was he? But if he wasn't innocent, then who was he and what did he want?
        And where did memories of a rich little girl with stupid Spock ears come from? She felt as if she were trying to give birth to another full-grown person inside her… as if she were two people and not one.
        She no longer felt safe here.
        She no longer trusted Coffey.
        Had to get dressed. Had to get out of here.
        
***
        
        The street was dark, shadow-haunted. She was hurrying, her footsteps unnaturally loud in the early-morning silence. It had rained some more, so all the buildings gleamed wetly. And emptily.
        Block after block of dusty store windows, used furniture places, laundromats, pawnshops, bail bondsmen. The farther she got from Coffey's, the worse the neighborhood got.
        She needed to find a cab.
        All she had was the address. That was the strange thing. She'd slept a few hours in Coffey's guest bedroom and then suddenly awakened, a voice in her head. Well, not just a voice , a presence . It was as if something were pushing against her brain, hoping to dislodge it, take over the same space. There was no other way to explain it.
        The presence gave her the address.
        She had no idea where the address was, or what its significance might be. All she knew for sure was that the address was somehow important to her. Very important.
        She walked on.
        A yellow cab went around a corner two blocks down. She cursed, feeling forlorn, deserted.
        Six more blocks. Long ones. Wet ones. It had started raining again.
        She saw a convenience store, an oasis of light in the oppressive darkness. And parked right in front of the door of the