Martin Misunderstood Read Online Free PDF

wordlessly heading
back up the stairs.
    The woman took a wallet out of her jacket
pocket. She flipped it open to show Martin a gold
badge. 'I'm Anabahda.'
    Martin squinted at the ID above her badge,
trying to put words to the sounds he had heard.
She closed the wallet too fast, though.
    'This is Detective Bruce Benedict, my partner.'
    The man winked at Martin, but his focus was
squarely on Unique, taking in every inch of her.
She smiled at his attention, practically batting her
eyelashes. With his slicked-back hair, expensive
suit and purple silk tie, he reminded Martin of a
character from a Stuart Woods novel. And, like
the typical Woodsian character, he carried
himself as if every woman he met wanted to give
him a blowjob.
    'You're Martin Reed?' Anabahda asked.
    'Yes.' He added, 'ma'am' to let her know he
respected her authority. 'Are you here about my
car? I hope you've caught the vandal.'
    'Why don't we go somewhere and talk? Your
boss said we could use the conference—'
    'You got a card?' Unique interrupted.
    Martin smiled at Anabahda. 'You'll have to
excuse—'
    'Fool, these are detectives. They don't send
detectives when somebody twats up your car.'
She snapped her fingers at Benedict. 'Gimme
your card.'
    The man gave his partner a knowing, lopsided
smile as he handed his card to Unique.
    'Homicide!' she screamed, nearly falling out of
her chair. 'Martin, you don't talk to Homicide
cops. My cousin talked to them once and he got
sent to jail for twenty years!'
    Anabahda asked, 'What's your cousin's
name?'
    Unique's face went blank. She picked up her
purse. 'I think I left my oven on.' She scampered
out the door, only the lingering scent of garlic and
mocha latte indicating she had even been there.
    Martin swallowed. He was alone with her
now, except for Benedict. 'Can I see your card,
please?'
    She took out her wallet again and dug around
in one of the pockets. 'This is just routine questioning,
Mr Reed. There's no reason to worry.'
    He took the card, electric shocks going
through his body when his fingers brushed
against hers. Martin noticed that she chewed her
cuticles, just like he did.
    'Mr Reed?'
    He realized he was staring at her. Martin
ducked down his head, reading the card:
Detective Anther 'An' Albada, Homicide
Division. 'An' not 'Anne' or 'Ann' but 'An'. The
simplicity was breathtaking, yet alluring. And the
Albada . . . how exotic, how foreign . . . He
wanted to touch the raised letters to see if the
tingling sensation came back.
    'Mr Reed?' She was leaning against Unique's
desk, arms crossed over her chest. He saw a gold
Timex on her wrist – spare, utilitarian, just like
the lady.
    She looked tired. He wondered what it might
feel like to have her put her head in his lap.
Martin blushed at the thought, thinking that, if
she could read his mind, she would assume that
his wanting her head in his lap had sexual
connotations, which was not the case – he simply
wanted to stroke her hair, to ask her about her
day. Maybe he would make her fishsticks and
Tater Tots (Martin's favorite meal), and then
when the kids came home, he would help them
with their homework and then carry her to bed
where they would make sweet, gentle love and
she would look into his eyes and—
    'Mr Reed?'
    Martin looked back at her. 'Yes, ma'am?'
    'Can you tell us where you were yesterday?'
    'At work.'
    'I mean, after work.'
    'I took my mother to the Peony Club. She left
her good trowel.'
    'And then what?'
    Martin felt his face flush. His throat tightened.
He had taken his mother home, and then he had
done something awful – so awful that the words
strangled in his throat. The one time someone
asked him what he had done the night before,
and he had actually done something, but he could
not talk about it. At least not to this beautiful
flower of a woman. Oh, the irony! The
unseemliness of it all!
    The toilet flushed. All of them turned their
heads, surprised by the noise. Daryl Matheson
was zipping up his coveralls as he came into