“Has she ever asked you directly if she might be Dancer’s daughter, or about your relationship with him?”
“No.”
“Then she doesn’t believe it, doesn’t really want to know. No, I’m not going to tell her. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“… Thankyou.”
“For what? I shouldn’t have come here, I should’ve let it stay buried. In fact, I wasn’t here today. We didn’t have this conversation and we’ll never have another one like it.”
I left her and walked slowly across the landscaped grounds to the parking lot. My car had been sitting in the direct sun; it was like an oven inside. But it could’ve been two hundred degrees in there and it still wouldn’t have been as hot as where Russ Dancer was right then.
Вы читаете Nightcrawlers
