Nightmare in Pink by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page A

silk shirt with three-quarter sleeves in an unusual shade of gray-green which enhanced the vivid and astonishing green of unusually large eyes. Her figure, as advertised, was taut and trim, tender and tidy as a young girl's. Even the backs of her slender hands were young.
    But the years had chopped her face. It was creased and withered and eroded into a simian brownness out of which the young green eyes stared. She had a deep drawling voice, barked rough by whisky arid smoking and living. She was smoking a cigarette, and her habits with it had a masculine look.
    I glanced at King. She said, "Mr. King would like to know too."
    Sometimes you have to take the risk very quickly, before you can scare yourself. "I want to know what's happening to Charlie Armister."
    "Why, dear?"
    "As a favor for a friend. And maybe, in all the confusion, some of that money will rub off on me."
    "So you want to hustle him, dear?"
    "Not to the exclusion of everything else, Mrs. Drummond."
    She turned to King. "You can pop along now, sweetie."
    "But I think I should… "
    "Please."
    "But in view of what he…"
    She moved to him in a slow graceful stride, patted his cheek, took his shoulder and turned him toward the door. "I'll be in touch."
    He went with an obvious reluctance. She went over and sat on a small desk, slim legs swinging. She gave me her monkey grin. "He's my lawyer. He's terribly protective. People get some terribly cute ideas, and I like to have him nearby when I make my little appraisal."
    "Do I look that harmless?"
    "No indeed, ducks. But old Connie Thatcher gave me a ring and said that if you should happen to come see me, you're a dear, and I should be nice. I was afraid you'd be one of those nice young men. I shouldn't underestimate Connie. She called you a brigand. Fix me a drink, dear. Two fingers of the Plymouth gin. One cube."
    She watched me in silence as I fixed it and took it over to her. When I handed it to her, she caught me by the wrist with her free hand. Her fingers were thin and hot and strong. I automatically resisted her attempt to turn my wrist. She released me at once and grinned at me. I had the feeling I had won a claiming race, and before making her bid she had taken a look at my teeth.
    "You're a powerful creature, Trav. Connie said people call you that. Please call me Terry. Aren't you drinking?"
    "Not right now, thanks."
    "I've offended you, haven't I?"
    "Give me the blue ribbon and they can lead me back to my stall."
    Her laugh was deep. "What would you expect of me, sweetie? Coyness, for God's sake? I'm a vulgar honest woman inspecting prime male. I don't see too many of your breed. They're either pretty boys or dull muscular oxen or aging flab. You move well, McGee. And I like deep-set gray eyes, hard stubborn jaws and sensuous mouths. Aren't you a girlwatcher?"
    "Of course."
    "I'm too old for you, sweetie. But not too old to think of taking you to bed." She stuck a finger in her drink and stirred it and licked her finger. "Didn't Connie tell you I'm notoriously crude?"
    "You certainly work at it, Terry."
    For an instant the vivid green eyes narrowed, and then she laughed. "I'm supposed to be keeping you off balance, sweetie. It isn't supposed to work the other way."
    "So let's call it a draw. I'm an acceptable stud, and from the neck down you're Miss Universe. And if there was ever any reason to go to bed, we'd probably find each other reasonably competent. But I came here to talk about Charlie."
    "You are a bold bastard, aren't you?"
    "Sure. And we're both emotional cripples, Terry. I've never married and you can't stay married, so perhaps all we've got is competence. And that makes a hell of a dry diet. Now how about Charlie?"
    She sprang down from the desk, gave me a tearful savage glare, and ran into the bedroom and slammed the door as hard as she could.
    I wandered over to the bar table and fixed myself a weak drink. I took it to the window and stood and watched the Saturday people strolling on the