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enough force to stun him momentarily. Quickly, Shannon got to his feet, grabbed Annette by the hand
and started for the front entrance.
"Come on! Let's get out of here ... and tell your dog I'm a friend! I don't like the way he's looking at
me!" he snapped, pulling her along behind him up the stairs, two at a time, to the street. "You have a
car?"
"Around the corner ... but what about Armand? They'll kill him if they catch him ...!"
"Let's hope they don't catch him, Baby ... In the meantime, I don't think they like me either. Let's go!"
Shannon took the wheel and they were out of the area in minutes. He kept to the back streets, moving in
no particular direction, except further away from the shabby section where the two hoods would be
undoubtedly canvassing with blood and rage warping their brains. After awhile, he said: "Your father
evidently doesn't like Nicolet."
He felt her eyes on him. She sat in the middle with the dog she had called Launcelot, on her right by the
window. She said: "Do you know my father?"
"I know who he is and who you are," he replied, his eyes fixed ahead.
For a moment she was quiet, then: "Why did you help? You could've been shot."
"I don't like hoods who shoot dogs," he said, easing around a corner onto a well lighted street. It was
Sherbrooke East and they were headed west.
"We both owe you a debt for helping us ... Launcelot and I," she said slipping her arm around the
animal's neck. "Do you think Armand got away?"
"I'd say that depends how resourceful he is. He certainly had time enough."
"Well ..." she said, pausing momentarily. "I suppose it won't make much difference anyway, knowing my
father. They'll find him sooner or later ... poor Armand."
Shannon made a little grunting sound. He couldn't get up any pity for the scrawny queer. Nevertheless,
he said: "I doubt if they intend to do more than rough him up a little. Even Gaston Larreau can't go
around having men knocked off just because they want to marry his daughter."
Again, he felt her eyes on him; it was progressing nicely, he thought.
"How do you know that?" she asked. "I mean, about Armand and me getting married?"
"Rumors."
"What else do you know about me?"
"That you've been on and off 'H' for the last week ... and that young frilly fruit's been supplying you." He
turned toward her. "Are you hooked?"
She hesitated. "No ... that is, I don't think so."
"How long since you've had a fix?"
"Yesterday morning ... say, who in hell are you, anyway? How do you know so much about me?"
"You can call me Shannon," he replied evenly. "As for the second question ... I've been doing a little
inquiring."
"Inquiring ...? Why?" There was an edge to her tone now.
"You intrigue me." He smiled over at her. "Don't get upset. Nothing's going to happen to you. I've been
trying to locate you for a mutual friend of ours who wants very much to see you."
"Mu-Mutual friend ... of ours?" Annette said, her head tilting questioningly to one side. "I don't
understand ... Who is this friend?"
"Madeleine Poirier."
"Madeleine?" She sat ahead in the seat. "Do you know where she is? No one has seen her since Antoine
went to prison ..."
"That's where we're going, ma'm'selle." Once more, he smiled in her direction, his most fetching,
disarming expression. "Just relax. It's going to take us awhile to get there. All right with you?"
"Yes ... yes, of course," she replied anxiously.
"Madeleine and I were always close. My God, I can't think of anyone I'd rather see ... I've been so
afraid that something terrible might have happened to her ... like it did to Ginny Novak ..."
Chapter 7
Madeleine was frightened; she couldn't help it. By day, the island was beautiful, but at night it was so
terribly dark and lonesome with Shannon gone, and the foreign, eerie sounds caused little chills to run
along her spine. Even in the luxury of the big house with every light in the place burning she was still on
edge, and had been since he'd taken the launch to the mainland just before sunset. Nervously, she
glanced at her watch. Eleven thirty; he'd told her to expect him shortly after midnight if everything went
well according to plan. God ...! Supposing it hadn't? What would she do?
Mother of Jesus! She had to get those thoughts out of her mind immediately! It would come off just as
he'd planned; it had to ... it just had to! All of her novenas she had said in church the past week had
been offered up for their success. The Blessed Mother would never desert her; she felt confident of that.
Lord, she should have more faith. What she needed was a little drink to steady her nerves.
She arose from the comfortable, overstuffed chair and went to the small wicker bar, finding one of the
bottles of bourbon Shannon had brought. There was ice in the small refrigerator beneath and several
different mixes. She set about blending, half listening to the music from the radio and thinking that one
day she and Shannon would have a lovely home like this one. And to imagine, it was only a summer
place. Some rich senator from the states owned it and Shannon had rented it for the week for
two-hundred-and-fifty dollars, including the launch ... She paused in her actions as she thought of that.
Two-hundred-fifty dollars of her hard earned money ... then, she laughed to herself ... a mere drop in the
bucket compared to what they were going to have soon ... just the three of them. Lord, how happy
they were going to be. She could almost cry just thinking of having her own little Igat with her for ever
and ever ... really, it was all for her ... her sweet little baby. There was no sacrifice too great for her to
make ... Well, she'd burned her bridges now by simply disappearing this way, leaving her place at the
Salle de Venus-Apollon, without any word to Rafael Girarde ... placing her all into the hands of this
handsome American.
Still, she didn't understand yet why they had come all the way to Kingston before looking for a place,
but her new lover had insisted it was necessary and she hadn't argued. Nor had she been displeased
when she learned that Hyde Island was thirteen miles out in Lake Ontario, then actually saw the
picturesque, castle-like structure that was built of field-stone and imported marbles. The idea of being
isolated on such a beautiful little paradise with the man she loved had set her right off. Only the mail-boat
that passed once a day would be their single connection with civilization, and then only if they signaled.
Dear God, they would make love until they were feeble; for what else was there to do but a bit of fishing
and swimming? And so they had for two solid days and nights, not even dressing except for the negligee
that she presently wore. God, it had been so wonderful ... and she loved him so much. There had never
been anyone like her Shannon ... absolutely no one.
The mere thought of his lean virile body next to her own was sufficient to arouse tiny, exciting tingles in
her loins and belly. She picked up her drink from the bar, the movement causing the gauzy material of
her negligee to graze against the suddenly distended nipples of her full breasts tauntingly. She shivered
from the erotic effect and walked back to her chair, lifting her feet onto the ottoman and stretching out.
The gossamery material fell away from her long shapely calves and thighs with a whisper and she looked
down at herself narcissistically, the dark velvety down sprinkled over the V of her mound enticing her.
She lifted the glass to her moist lips and consumed half of it, while the soft, romantic listening music from
the radio created an enrapturing mood.
God ... if you were here right at this moment! Shannon ... Shannon ...
I'd lick you to death! Mon cher ... how I love you!
Once more, she drank from the glass, then set it on the table beside her, closing her eyes as her hands
found her own waist and moved upward over the slight delineation of her ribs to her heavy, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]