The Last Good Kiss by James Crumley Read Free Book Online Page A

stared at the institutional beige wall as if it
    were a window overlooking the mountains, as if he
    could see himself standing in a crowded postcard scenic
    view. "One little happy family," he said quietly.
    I knew I would have to listen to the story of his life
    eventually, but I preferred later to sooner, so I excused
    myself. As I turned to leave, his large hand wrapped
    around the small bottle as if it were his only hope of
    salvation.
    There's no fool like a fool who thinks he's charming.
    On the way out, I stopped by the nurses' station to say
    hello to the tall nurse again. I asked her about having
    Trahearne's meals delivered, and although she didn't
    seem pleased about it, she promised to check with the
    doctor.
    40

    "And what are you doing about dinner tonight?" I
    asked.
    "Fixing it," she said as she held up a banded finger.
    "I'm not," a perky voice said behind me.
    Before I picked up the line, I turned around to see
    who had dropped it. She was shorter than the other one
    but rounder, with a pert, snub-nosed face framed by
    curly blond hair and a solid, muscular body. She had
    bowlegs, but what the hell, so did I.
    "Is that a date?" I asked her.
    "Only if you want it to be," she answered quickly,
    her blue eyes brightly smiling.
    "Eight o'clock," I said, "in the bar at the Sonoma
    Lodge?" I'm not a monster but I've got a beer gut and a
    broken nose, and strange women never pick me out of
    a crowd for blind dates, but gift horses and all that.
    Also, she h�d a small mobile mouth, and the straightforward approach of a bedroom lady.
    "Wonderful," she said, then extended a square,
    no-nonsense hand. "Bea Rolands," she added. "Are
    you a writer too? Like Mr. Trahearne?"
    "Not exactly like Trahearne," I admitted, holding on
    to the hand as things became clearer. The only writer
    around was out of action, and I had read enough books
    on bored afternoons in Army gymnasiums to fake it,
    maybe even pick up Trahearne's slack. "I do research
    for him, sometimes, and take care of his affairs," I said
    with a leer.
    "Isn't he a wonderful writer?" she gushed. "I just
    love his books. I have them all, you know. Hardbacks.
    Even his poetry. And I've seen all the movies, three or
    four times, and I just love them, too. Do you think he'd
    mind if I asked him to autograph them for me?"
    "Well, I don't know," I said. "He's really shy, you
    know, and that sort of thing embarrasses him , but why
    don't you bring them along tonight, and I'll ask him
    tomorrow."
    41

    "Oh thank you," she bubbled, bouncing on her
    heels. Her small firm breasts bounded about quite
    nicely in the thin bra she wore beneath her uniform.
    "See you at eight," I said, finally releasing her hand.
    "And thanks for saving me from a solitary dinner."
    "Oh the pleasure's all mine," she answered, giggling.
    Walking out of the hospital, I decided that Traheame
    was all right. At least he wasn't boring. Things happened around him: blood, gunfire, a night in jail, and now a devoted fan with sexily bowed legs. I found
    myself hoping he would run away again. Soon. And
    often. Once every five or six months. Maybe he could
    just stop by and pick me up on the way, then we
    wouldn't have to waste all that party time while I
    busted my ass hunting for him.
    42
    4 ••••
    AT THE SUPERY.ARKET, I ASKED THE CHECK-OUT LADY FOR
    a receipt for the fifteen pounds of magazines and
    paperbacks, then flashed a deputy sheriff's badgeobtained under extremely suspicious circumstances-from Boulder County, Colorado. I told her I was investigating the material for hidden pornographic
    meanings. She didn't turn a single artfully tousled hair.
    Which was one of the things I had always liked about
    California: Everybody's so crazy, you have to be really
    weird to get anybody's attention.
    When I delivered my load to Traheame's room, he
    was sleeping like a grizzly gone under for the winter,
    curled on his unwounded hip, spitting out snores that
    seemed to curse his sleep, great