Deadly Honeymoon Read Online Free Page B

soothed her and told her that everything was all right. After a few minutes she fell asleep again, and he got up and put clothes on.
    Now he talked to her without looking at her, his eyes conveniently fixed on the road ahead. “When we get to Monticello,” he said, “you’re going to see a doctor.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    He looked at her. She was worrying her lip with her teeth. “I don’t want anyone, oh, touching me. Now. Examining me.”
    “Is that all?”
    “I just don’t want it. And if a doctor could tell anything, wouldn’t he have to report it? Like a gunshot wound?”
    “I don’t know. But if they injured you—”
    “They didn’t hurt me,” she said. “I mean, they didn’t do any damage. I checked, I know. There were no cuts or bleeding.” Her voice, flat until then, came alive again. “Dave, those policemen were stupid.”
    “Why?”
    “They figured it all out. The mess in Carroll’s cabin, the way everything was turned upside down. They think Carroll fought with his murderers and then they dragged him outside and shot him.”
    “I didn’t even think about that. That’s what they figure?”
    “They were talking outside, before you got out of the shower. Dave, they didn’t hurt me. I don’t have to see any doctor.”
    “Well—”
    “There wasn’t even that much pain,” she said. “The doctor I saw, before we were married—”
    He waited.
    “He told me about some exercises. To make it easier for us to—” She stopped, and he waited, and she caught hold of herself and started in again. “—to consummate our marriage.”
    He kept his eyes on the road. He swung to the left, passed a station wagon, cut back to the right again. He looked at his hands on the steering wheel, the knuckles white, the fingers locked tight around the wheel. He moved his hands lower on the steering wheel so that she would not see them.
    Suddenly he was grinning.
    “Is something funny?”
    “I was just picturing you,” he said. “Doing your exercises.”
    He laughed then, and she laughed. It was the first time either of them had laughed since Carroll was murdered.
    A little later he said, “There’s another reason you ought to see a doctor.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I don’t know how to say it well. Suppose you’re pregnant?”
    She didn’t say anything.
    “It’s no fun to think about,” he said. “But it could be. Jesus.”
    “Oh, Dave—”
    He slowed the car. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he said. “They can always do something about it. The legal question varies from state to state, but I know a dozen doctors who wouldn’t worry about the law. If a . . . rape victim is pregnant, she can get an abortion. There’s no problem.”
    “Oh, God,” she said. “I didn’t even think. You’ve been worrying about this, haven’t you? All night, probably.”
    “Well—”
    “I’m not pregnant. I’m taking these pills, oral contraceptives. That was one of my surprises for you. The doctor gave me pills to take. Little yellow pills. I couldn’t possibly be pregnant.”
    She began to cry then. He started to pull off the road but she told him to go on driving, that she would be all right. He went on driving, and she stopped crying. “Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m not going to cry any more, at all.”
    They made good time. They stopped once on the road for gas and food and were in New York by twelve-thirty. They came in on the Saw Mill River Parkway and the West Side Drive. They took a room with twin beds at the Royalton, on West Forty-fourth Street. The doorman parked their car for them.
    Their room was on the eleventh floor. A bellhop carried their luggage, checked the towels, showed them where their closets were, opened a window, thanked Dave for the tip, and left. Dave walked to the window. You couldn’t see much from it, just the side of an office building.
    “We’re here,” he said.
    “Yes. Have you spent much time in New York?”
    “A couple of