Judge Me Not Read Online Free PDF

was spewing out a stream of gutter language that threatened to sear the green grass for yards around.
    Teed squatted on his heels. “I guess I didn’t yell in time,” he said.
    She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. She slowly lowered her hands. “It wasn’t … your … fault.” Her mouth was trembling.
    She looked beyond him and Teed heard Lonnie approaching. Her eyes hardened. “Dammit,” she said, “it isn’t enough I got to chase balls like a stinkin’ caddy, but you got to clobber me on the head with one.”
    “Kindly shut your big loose mouth,” Lonnie said quietly. All fire left the girl’s eye. She stood up meekly. Lonnie took her by the upper arm. Teed saw the whiteness come around her mouth.
    “Meet Mr. Teed Morrow, darling,” he said. “Morrow, this is my secretary. Alice Trowbridge.”
    “How do you do,” she said.
    “Now, you were clumsy, weren’t you, darling?”
    “Yes, Mr. Raval.”
    “Go on up to the house and take an aspirin, darling.”
    He released her. Teed felt faintly ill as he saw the depth of the indentations his hard fingers had made in her arm. She walked up the slope, legs slim and brown under the crisp chartreuse shorts, back straight, head lowered. She didn’t begin to rub her arm until she had almost reached the garage.
    “Is this just a friendly visit?” Raval asked, dark eyes dancing.
    “Not likely. Mr. Dennison’s doctor told him he had to stop smoking cigars.”
    “Is that supposed to mean something? It sounds like one of those cute cracks that mean something else.”
    “Here’s the cigars you sent him, Raval.” He handed the box over.
    “That
I
sent him?” The surprise was just a shade too enormous, Teed decided. Lonnie took the box, hefted it. “Must be some kind of mistake.”
    “With five thousand cash in with the cigars, Lonnie. You aren’t kidding me and you certainly aren’t kidding Powell Dennison.”
    Raval grinned. “Come on up to the house. We can have a talk.”
    “There isn’t much to talk about, Lonnie.”
    “Hell, I thought we had mutual interests, Morrow.”
    Teed shrugged. “Suit yourself.” They went up to the house. There was a small patio on the side opposite the drive. A glass-topped table, some wrought-iron chairs. Raval ordered Sam to bring drinks and then to pick up the golf equipment.
    Teed lit Lonnie’s cigarette and his own with the new lighter. The box sat on the table between them. After Sam brought the drinks, Lonnie Raval said, “If there’s five thousand in that box, it sort of puts me in a spot. I got to report all my income. Now how the hell will I report that? A gift? I don’t want those Internal Revenue snoops raising hell with me and my accountants, do I?”
    “Better not put it down as a gift from Dennison, Lonnie.”
    “Look, fella. Get me off the spot. You can tell Dennison you gave me the dough. Keep it yourself.”
    “And then someday you’ll want a little harmless favor from me, Lonnie. I don’t want to have a ‘sold’ sign on me.”
    Lonnie clucked sadly. “You guys! You Christers.”
    “Must be we have you worried, Raval.”
    One dark eyebrow went up a little. The eyes were liquid, wet-black, beautiful. “Worried? Not such a good word, Morrow. You two are like maybe a pebble in my shoe. And I’m a lazy guy. I just hate to sit down and take my shoe off and shake the pebble out. Maybe I’m going to have to do it, though.”
    “Maybe we won’t shake out so easy,” Teed said, trying to match Raval’s casual confidence, trying not to show how much the quiet words had bothered him.
    “Now that just doesn’t make sense, Morrow. You and those silly goddam affidavits! Think I’m going to sit still and let you nibble on me? Take a message back to Dennison. Tell him Raval is scared of federal heat—so scared that he keeps his nose clean. Tell him Raval can find angles as far as state and local heat is concerned. And tell him that as far as a couple of amateur