“God, yes,” Tammy said. She sat
up in bed, and the motion pulled the bedclothes nearly off him. He struggled to keep covered. “I mean it. I got a right to be more than your whore once a week. I want’t,o live in that house. I want to go to the Yacht Club dances and nm a table at the Harvest Fair and have an account at Saks. I want you to marry me.”
“It’s not possible,” he
said.
“Maybe I’ll make it
possible,” Tammy said.
She was angry, and she felt strong when she was angry.
Her anger had always worked with Bobby, and when she got angry .enough it had driven him from the house. What a loser Bobby was.
“You will?” he said.
The anger was working with him too. He was very meek.
“If I have to. I’ll go public
with this. I’ll tell your wife, I’ll tell everybody. You’ll have to marry me just to shut me up.”
“Don’t do that,” he
said.
His voice was so quiet. She almost smiled. Men were easy. Bobby had been strong as a blacksmith and all she had to do was get mad and he caved tight in. Now it was working again. There he was with his money and his position and he was as meek as a little boy when she got mad.
“So thi about it. Either you get tidof her hnd marry me, or I go all-out fucking public.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes,” he said. “Of
course. I can see how you’d feel.
Just give me a little time. I’ll make it tight. I care about you a great deal.“
“And I care about you. But you gotta treat me tight.”
He nodded again.
“Yes,” he said.
“It’ll take a little while for me to arrange everything. But I’ll do the tight thing, Tammy. I She laughed with pleasure and leaned over and kissed him.
“Will you give me an engagement
ting?” she said. “A big engagement ting with a big diamond and maybe little emeralds on either side?”
“As soon as I can,” he said.
“As soon as I can get this all fixed. Just give me a little time and you’ll get everything you want.”
“Yes,” she said and lay back on
the bed and watched him while he got up and put on his clothes, and left. When he was gone she stayed in the bcd, her hands clasped he-hind her head.
“Yes,” she said out loud and her
voice seemed very powerful in the quiet room.
the computer screen. In Massachusetts, permits to carry a handgun were issued by the local chief of police. The permits had to be renewed every five years. Fire Arm Identification cards, permitting the holder to keep a gun, but not to carry one, were usued once and good for the holder’s lifetime. All the carry permits currently held therefore had been issued by Torn Carson. Some of the F.I.D.‘s were much older. But only two had been issued prior to Carson’s arrival fifteen years before. No one had applied for a gun permit since Jesse had taken the job.
Jesse got up and walked to his office door and opened it and spoke to Molly Crane, who was the dispatcher and ran the front desk. She was also the jail matron and the only female officer on the force.
Molly was on the phone.
“Trash pickup has been delayed a day
because of Labor Day,” she said into the phone.
“No, ma’am. One day
!ater…Wben’s your usual
pickup?…Then it’ll be
Thursday this week… Yes, ma’am.
Glad to.“
She hung up and smiled at Jesse.
