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قديم 12-02-11, 05:21 AM   #5

Dalyia

إدارية ومشرفة سابقة وكاتبة بمكتبة روايتي وعضوة بفريق التصميم والترجمة و الافلام والسينما ومعطاء التسالي ونجمة الحصريات الفنية ومميز بالقسم الطبى

 
الصورة الرمزية Dalyia

? العضوٌ??? » 130321
?  التسِجيلٌ » Jul 2010
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?  نُقآطِيْ » Dalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond reputeDalyia has a reputation beyond repute
¬» مشروبك   pepsi
¬» قناتك mbc4
?? ??? ~
My Mms ~
افتراضي

Man-killer Barbie.
Despite the restriction of the outfit, everything that could jiggle did
so as she strolled around the counter on skinny, backless heels, wiggled
her way into the diner. And posed languidly against the bar.
“Well, hello, handsome.”
Her voice was a throaty purr—she must’ve practiced it—designed to
drain the blood out of a man’s head and send his IQ plummeting to
that of a green turnip.
“Charlene, you behave.” Hopp rattled the key. “This boy’s tired and
half sick. He doesn’t have the reserves to deal with you right now. Chief
Burke, Charlene Hidel. This is her place. Town budget’s paying your
room and board here as part of your pay, so don’t feel obliged to offer
anything out in trade.”


“Hopp, you’re so
bad.” But Charlene smiled like a stroked kitten as

she said it. “Why don’t I just take you up, Chief Burke, get you all settled
in? Then we’ll bring you something hot to eat.”
“I’ll take him up.” Deliberately Hopp closed her fist around the key,
letting the big black room number tag dangle. “Jerk’s bringing in his
gear.Wouldn’t hurt to have Rose bring him the chowder Mike’s dishing
up for him though. Come on, Ignatious. You can socialize when you’re
not so ready to drop.”
He could’ve spoken for himself, but he didn’t see the point. He followed
Hopp through a doorway and up a flight of steps as obediently as
a puppy follows its master.
He heard someone mutter, “Cheechako,” in the tone a man uses to
spit out bad meat. He assumed it was an insult, but let it go.
“Charlene doesn’t mean any harm,” Hopp was saying. “But she does
like to tease a man to death given half a chance.”
“Don’t worry about me,Mom.”
She gave that foghorn laugh again, and slid the key into the lock on
room


“Man took off on her about fifteen years back, left her with a girl to
raise on her own. Did a decent enough job with Meg, though they’re at
each other like she-cats half the time. Had plenty of men since, and
they get younger every year. I said she was too old for you before.” Hopp
looked over her shoulder. “Fact is, the way she’s been going, you’re too
old for her. Thirty-two, aren’t you?”
“I was when I left Baltimore. How many years ago was that?”
Hopp shook her head, pushed open the door. “Charlene’s got better
than a dozen years on you. Got a grown daughter nearly your age.
Might want to keep that in mind.”
“I thought you women got off when one of your kind bags a younger
man.”
“Shows what you know about females. Pisses us off is what it does,
because we didn’t bag him first.Well, this is it.”
He stepped into a wood-paneled room with an iron bed, a dresser
and mirror on one side, and a small round table, two chairs and a little
desk on the other.
It was clean, it was spare and about as interesting as a bag of white rice.
“Little kitchen through here.” Hopp walked over, yanked back a blue
curtain to reveal a pint-sized refrigerator, a two-burner stove and a sink
the size of Nate’s cupped palm. “Unless cooking’s your passion or hobby,
I’d take my meals downstairs. Food’s good here.
“It’s not the Ritz, and she’s got fancier rooms, but we’re on a budget.”
She crossed to the other side, pushed open a door. “Bathroom. This one
has indoor plumbing.”
“Woo-hoo.” He poked his head in.
The sink was bigger than the kitchen’s but not by much. It didn’t rate
a tub, but the shower stall would do him well enough.
“Got your gear, chief.” Jerk hauled in two suitcases and a duffel as if
they were empty. He dumped them on the bed where their weight
sagged the mattress. “Need me for anything, I’ll be downstairs grabbing
a meal. I’ll bunk here tonight, fly back to Talkeetna in the morning.”
He tapped a finger on his forehead in salute and clomped out again.
“Shit. Hold on.” Nate started to dig into his pocket.
“I’ll take care of tipping him,” Hopp said. “Till you’re on the clock,
you’re a guest of the Lunacy town council.”
“Appreciate it.”
“I plan to see you work for it, so we’ll see how it goes.”
“Room service!” Charlene sang it when she carried a tray into the
room. Her hips swayed like a metronome as she walked over to set it on
the table. “Brought you up some nice fish chowder, chief, and a good
man-sized sandwich. Coffee’s hot.”
“Smells great. I appreciate it, Ms. Hidel.”
“Oh now, that’s Charlene to you.” She batted the baby blues, and
yeah, Nate thought, she practiced. “We’re just one big happy family
around here.”
“That were the case, we wouldn’t need a chief of police.”
“Oh, don’t go scaring him off, Hopp. Is the room all right for you,
Ignatious?”
“Nate. Yes, thanks. It’s fine.”
“Put some food in your belly and get some rest,” Hopp advised. “You
get your second wind, just give me a call. I’ll show you around.Your first
official duty will be attending the meeting tomorrow afternoon at Town
Hall, where we’ll introduce you to everybody who cares to attend.You’ll
want to see the station house before that, meet your two deputies and
Peach. And we’ll get you that star.”
“Star?”
“Jesse wanted to make sure you were getting a star. Come on, Charlene.
Let’s leave the man alone.”
“You call downstairs you need any little thing.” Charlene sent him an
invitational smile. “
Any little thing.”


Behind Charlene’s back, Hopp rolled her eyes toward heaven. To
settle the matter, she clamped a hand on Charlene’s arm, yanked her
toward the door. There was a clatter of heels on wood, a feminine
squeak, then the slam of the door behind them.
Through it,Nate could hear Charlene’s hushed and insulted: “What’s
the
matter with you, Hopp. I was only being friendly.”

“There’s innkeeper friendly, then there’s bordello friendly. One of
these days, you’re going to figure out the difference.”
He waited until he was sure they were gone before he crossed over to
flip the locks. Then he pulled off his parka, let it fall to the floor, dragged
off his watch cap, dropped it. Unwound his scarf, dropped that. Unzipped
his insulated vest and added it to the heap.
Down to shirt, pants, thermal underwear and boots, he went to the
table, picked up the soup, a spoon, and carried both to the dark windows.
Three-thirty in the afternoon, according to the bedside clock—and
dark as midnight.There were streetlights glowing, he noted as he spooned
up soup, and he could make out the shapes of buildings. Christmas decorations
in colored lights, in rooftop Santas and cartoon reindeers.
But no people, no life, no movement.
He ate mechanically, too tired, too hungry to notice the taste

Nate yanked the drapes over the glass, stepped away from the window.
After a moment’s debate, he dragged his cases off the bed, left them
dumped, unpacked, on the floor. He stripped down, ignored the chill
of the room against his naked skin, and crawled under the mountain of
blankets the way a bear crawls into his winter cave.
He lay there, a man of thirty-two with a thick, disordered mass of
chestnut hair that waved around a long, thin face gone lax with exhaustion
and a despair that blurred eyes of smoky gray. Under a day’s worth
of stubble, his skin was pale with the drag of fatigue. Though the food
had eased the rawness in his belly, his system remained sluggish, like
that of a man who couldn’t quite shake off a debilitating flu.
He wished Barbie—Charlene—had brought up a bottle instead of
the coffee. He wasn’t much of a drinker, which he figured is what had
saved him from spiraling into alcoholism along with everything else.
Still, a couple of good belts would help turn off his brain and let him
sleep.
He could hear the wind now. It hadn’t been there before, but it was
moaning at the windows.With it, he heard the building creak and the
sound of his own breathing.
Three lonely sounds only more lonely as a trio.
Tune them out, he told himself.Tune them all out.
He’d get a couple hours’ sleep, he thought. Then he’d shower off the
travel grime, pump himself full of coffee.
After that, he’d decide what the hell he was going to do.
He turned off the light so the room plunged into the dark.Within
seconds, so did he.


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