The Dreadful Lemon Sky by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online

appraisal.
    "We sure the hell are," she said finally. She shook her gingery hair back and wiped her pretty mouth with the back of her hand, then belched like any boy in the fifth grade.
    A man came through the open door that led back to the warehouse portion. He had a clipboard in his hand. He was sweaty and he had a smudge of grease on his forehead. Lots of redbrown hair, carefully sprayed into position. Early thirties. Outdoor look. Western shirt with a lot of snaps and zippers. Whipcord pants. Boots. A nervous harried look and manner.
    "We're not open for business, friend. Sorry. Joanna, find me the invoices on that redwood fencing, precut, huh?"
    "Cheez, I keep telling you and telling you, it was Carrie knew where all that-"
    "Carrie isn't here to help us, goddammit. So shake your ass and start looking."
    "Listen, Harry, I don't even know if I'm going to get paid for this time I'm putting in, right?"
    "Joanna, honey, of course you'll get your pay. Come on, dear. Please find the invoices for me?"
    She gave him a long dark stare, underlip protruding. "Buster, you've been talking just a little too much poremouth. Just a little too much. And you've been getting evil with me too often, hear? I think you better go doodle in your hat. I'm going to go get my hair done. I might come back and I might retire. Who knows?"
    She slung her big leather purse over her shoulder. He tried to block her way to the door. He was begging, pleading, insisting. She paid no attention to him. There was no expression on her face. When he took hold of her arm she wrenched away and left, and the glass door swung shut.
    Harry went over to a big desk and sat in the large red leather chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed and looked at me and frowned. "Friend, we are still not open for business. We are even less open than we were. Let me give you some sound advice. Never hump the help. They get uppity. They take advantage."
    "I came by to ask about Carrie Milligan."
    "She used to work here. She's dead. What's your interest?"
    "I heard she was killed. I'm a friend of hers from Fort Lauderdale."
    "Didn't she used to live there?"
    A bare-chested young man in jeans came out of the warehouse area and held up two big bolts. "Mr. Hascomb, you want I should count every damn one of these things? There's thousandsl"
    "Hundreds. Count how many in five pounds and then, weigh all we got. That'll be close enough."
    The boy left, and Harry Hascomb shook his head and said, "It's hard to believe she's dead. She worked day before yesterday. That's her desk over there. It happened so sudden. She really held this place together. She was a good worker, Carrie was. What did you say you want?"
    "She came to see me two weeks ago. In Fort Lauderdale."
    He was so still I wondered if he was holding his breath. He licked his lips and swallowed and said, "Two weeks ago?"
    "Does that mean anything?"
    "Why should it mean anything?"
    I did not know where to go from there. The loan of money seemed all at once frail and implausible. I needed to find a better direction. "She came to see me because she was in trouble."
    "Trouble? What kind of trouble?"
    "She wanted to leave something with me for safekeeping. It happened it wasn't the best time for me to try to take care of anything for anybody. There are times you can, and times you shouldn't. I hated to say I couldn't. I was very fond of Carrie Milligan."
    "Everybody was. What did she want you to keep?"
    "Some money."
    "How much?"
    "She didn't say. She said it was a lot. When I heard about her being killed in that accident, I began to wonder if she'd found anybody to hold the money. Would you know anything about anything like that?"
    Once again Harry went into his motionless trance, looking over my shoulder and into the faraway distance. It took him a long time. I wondered what he was sorting, weighing, appraising.
    At last he shook his head slowly. "My God, I wouldn't have believed it. She must have been in