Man On The Run Read Online Free PDF Page B

Her face was flushed and her breathing ragged as she eluded my hands and ran toward the next room. I caught her beside the bed.
    “It’s so cold in here,” she whispered. “Did you close that window?”
    I reached out across the bed to pull the drape aside to make sure, and while I was off balance she hit me with a shoulder and both arms. I spun around, landed on the corner of the bed, and slid to the floor. She ran out into the living room and slammed the door shut. I got up, raging. She’d play hell getting away with that; there was no lock on the door.
    I hit it on the run, turning the knob and starting to lunge through after her. It opened six inches or so, and stopped abruptly, and I slammed into it face-first. Something was holding it at the bottom. I could hear the sound of her heels as she ran out into the kitchen. Wild now, I backed off and hit the door again as hard as I could. The top sprang outward a few inches, but the bottom scarcely moved. I heard the car door close out in the garage and then the engine starting. I lunged frantically at the door, and this time I managed to fight my way around the edge of it. It was too late. She was backing out of the garage. I ran to the front window just in time to see her get out with the plastic raincoat over her head, lock the garage doors, and then calmly get back in the car and drive off. She knew she was safe once she was outside the house.
    I turned away, swearing bitterly, and lighted a cigarette. There was no use even trying to run; they’d be here in less than five minutes. Damn her, anyway; this was the thanks I got for saving her life. Then I cursed myself for being so stupid as to leave the keys in the car. I’d forgotten about them in the urgency of getting her out of that carbon monoxide. And now I’d let her make a complete sap of me.
    But how had she jammed the door? It didn’t matter now, but I went over and looked at it. It was clever. She’d jammed the end of the fireplace poker under it. The poker had a large handle, so it acted as a wedge; the harder I’d shoved, the tighter it had jammed. Suzy was a clever girl. I called her that and several other things.
    I went over and yanked my clothes off the line and started dressing. She’d find a police car inside half a mile, and I might as well be ready when they got here. I wadded up the blanket and threw it savagely across the room. I stopped to listen, but heard nothing except the rain. A minute passed, and another, while I put on trousers, shirt, and shoes. What were they doing, sneaking up on me? She must have told them I had no gun. I went to the window and peered out. The road was deserted and rainswept in the gathering dusk, with no cars in sight anywhere.
    A full hour went by before I dared believe it. She hadn’t reported that I was here. I wondered why? Had she been in a wreck?
    * * *
    Before it was fully dark, I ate some more of the corned beef and drank a cup of coffee. I turned off the gas heater for fear it might be seen through the drapes, made sure the outside doors were locked, and curled up on the couch with a blanket. The rain went on. It had a lonely sound.
    The Dancy would have sailed this afternoon, and by now she’d have made her departure from the sea-buoy and be shouldering her way southeastward toward the Florida Straits: I lighted a cigarette and took a quick look at the time. I’d just now be going up to the bridge in oilskins to take over the watch. Homesickness and longing swept over me. I shoved them out of my mind.
    In the morning it was still raining, not as hard now, but with a steady gray drizzle that looked as if it might go on for a week. I made some coffee and listened to the radio news. The police were still convinced they had me surrounded in the vicinity of Carlisle and were continuing their search. The only thing to do was stay right here as long as I could. There was no way to account for her not going to the police, but she hadn’t, so presumably she