An Independent Woman Read Online Free PDF

address book, keys, cards, lip gloss, handkerchief, gold pen, small mirror, comb, nail clipper, and a glassine folder of children’s pictures.
    â€œEmpty the wallet and the purse.” He walked to the other side of the bed and flicked on the other bedside lamp as Barbara took the bills out of the wallet and opened her change purse. There were five dollar bills and some change in the purse. He stuffed it into his pocket and counted the money from the wallet, one hundred and twenty-six dollars. Barbara started to rise.
    â€œDon’t move, lady. Just sit there.”
    â€œWhat else do you want?”
    â€œJewelry. Do I have to dump all the drawers, or are you going to tell me?”
    â€œWhat I have is here in my bedside drawer.” She sighed now.
    â€œPull it out and dump it on the bed.”
    â€œAll right.” Barbara reached over and pulled out the second drawer of her bedside table, and turned it over onto the comforter.
    â€œDon’t get euphoric,” he said sharply. She looked at him curiously. He was separating the jewelry, four rings, one of them a small diamond set in gold, two plain gold bands, and the third, a large man’s ring, heavy gold and carved to look like a leopard. He held it in front of him so that he could watch Barbara as he read the inscription on the inside. There was also a heavy gold linked bracelet, a neckband to match, and a brooch set with small diamonds and rubies.
    â€œThat ring was my father’s,” Barbara said. “I wish you would leave it. The other stuff is worth much more.” She had never cared for jewelry, wore it only occasionally, and ignored the advice of her friends that she keep the pieces in a vault.
    He weighed the ring in his hand.
    â€œMy mother gave it to him. It means something to me.”
    â€œIt’s worth a thousand, lady.”
    â€œI’ll give you the thousand. You can have the jewelry. I won’t call the cops, and I won’t ever bear witness against you. Take it as a gift but leave me the ring.”
    â€œYou are something, lady. Where’s the thousand?”
    â€œI don’t keep cash in the house. I’ll write you a check.”
    â€œOh, lady, lady,” he said, smiling. “You’ll give me a check—written out to me, of course. And when I go to cash it, the cops will be waiting to pick me up. I wasn’t born yesterday. This is the largest crock of shit I ever heard.”
    â€œIf I give you my word, I’ll keep it. You’re no ordinary thief. You’re an educated man. I don’t give a damn about the other stuff, but I care about the ring.”
    â€œLady, I’m a plain street nigger.”
    â€œBut you use words like euphoria. You don’t talk like a plain street thug. You try to, but it doesn’t come off. If you were a professional, you’d grab the stuff and be out of here in minutes. You wouldn’t be sitting here and talking to me. You’d beat me up and rape me and get out of here… You don’t have to keep pointing that gun at me. I’m not going to resist you. But I want the ring. There’s a small leather box on my dressing table, and there’s a string of pearls in it that’s worth more than five thousand dollars—a lot more than the ring.”
    The black man stared at her for a long moment. Then he went to the dressing table, opened the leather box, and took out the pearls. The necklace was twenty-four inches long, matched natural pearls, a gift from Carson Devron. In the two years since he died, she had never touched the pearls, never worn them. Two years was not long enough for her to accept the fact that Carson was dead, and she shunned anything that brought it home to her. She had intended to give the pearls to Sam’s wife, Mary Lou, or perhaps to Mary Lou’s daughter when she was a few years older.
    The black man was looking at the pearls, holding the necklace up to the light. “What