Fire Lake by Jonathan Valin Read Free Book Online

breast, over her
heart. "I'm still for peace and love. I still make the marches,
when they're marching. I still want to believe in all that stuff.
Like I still want to love Lonnie, I guess. The two of them are hard
to separate out in my head--Lonnie and the past." She lowered
her voice to a whisper. "He never really meant to hurt anybody.
Christ, he really believed in peace, love, sharing. He just didn't
want to be hurt himself. And he'd been hurt so many times. His
parents, his brother, the band, agents. Me. You. Did you know that
you hurt him, Harry?"
    "Yes," I said, "I think I do know
that."
    "All he ever really wanted was to be loved
uncritically--the way he thought he loved other people. It's what we
all wanted, wasn't it? He'd open himself up to strangers, time and
time again. Really show them his heart and soul. And every time
they'd disappoint him or use him or hurt him. It got so that he
expected it. And then it got so that he couldn't handle it without a
fix. He just didn't have it inside. It was like he was born without
the right stuff. He used to joke about it, feebly. He said he was
missing a bone--the heart."
    "We all have to live with disappointments,
Karen," I said.
    She stiffened up on the car seat. "I'm not
excusing him," she said coolly. "I'm the last person on
earth who would excuse Lonnie Jackowski. I'm just saying that he did
what he did out of weakness and despair--not out of any deliberate
desire to hurt."
    I crossed the river on the Brent Spence and took I-7I
north to the Reading Road exit. We didn't say another word, until I
pulled into the Delores's parking lot on Burnett.
    "We're here," I said, flipping off the
engine.
    Karen looked up at the red-brick apartment and
shivered.
    "If you don't feel like this," I said
gently, "we could get you a hotel room."
    She shook her head. "I came to help him."
    "There could be a scene," I said in a
warning voice.
    "I can handle Lonnie," Karen said, with
just a touch of contempt in her voice. "Let's go."
    I guided her around to the front, up the stairs
leading to the narrow court. The slush in the courtyard was dimpled
with footprints, filling up with new snow. The limbs of the dogwoods
were encased in ice, dripping down in sharp, conical icicles. Karen
brushed against one of the dogwoods and the icicles tinkled like wind
chimes.
    As we stepped into the lobby, Karen stared ominously
up the stairs.
    "All set?" I said.
    She took a deep breath and nodded.
    We walked up two flights to my floor. When we got to
the top floor, I put my hand across her chest, brushing her breasts
again.
    She laughed and said, "Are you trying to tell me
something?"
    When I didn't laugh, she stared at me curiously and
asked, "What's wrong, Harry?"
    I pulled her back to the landing. "My
apartment's at the end of the hall on the left."
    "And?" she said.
    "The door is open."
    "Maybe he opened the door," she said, "to
air the place out?"
    I shook my head. "I don't think so."
    "Well, we don't have to make a melodrama out of
it," she said, peeking around the corner of the landing, "let's
just go see."
    "I'll go," I said.
    She gave me a disappointed look. "You're not
going to be like that, are you, Harry? A male chauvinist prick?
Lonnie would have told me to go ahead. In fact, he would have pushed
me in front of him."
    "I'm not Lonnie," I said.
    I put my hand on her shoulders, backed her gently
against the landing wall, and stared into her eyes. "Humor me
and stay here, Karen. Okay?"
    "For chrissake," she said with disgust.
"All right. Go already."
    I stepped back into the corridor and walked slowly
down the hall. As I got closer to the door, I could see that the
apartment had been ransacked. I unbuttoned my topcoat and pulled the
Gold Cup out of the shoulder holster. It was cocked and locked. I
flipped off the safety and stepped into my living room.
    All the drawers of my desk had been emptied on the
floor. The cushions on the couch were slashed; and the stuffing had
been pulled out and scattered