Recoil Read Online Free Page A

practicing law.”
    â€œWe don’t talk about that, remember?”
    She uttered a short bark of unamused laughter. “I suppose Frank Pastor has microphones all over this house.”
    â€œIt’s better to stay in the habit of never talking about it.”
    â€œDoesn’t it make you feel foolish? Melodramatic?”
    â€œI like it here. I don’t want us to take stupid risks.”
    His eyes followed the lines of her body as she stood up and walked aimlessly around the room. She was tennis-slim and her fine long hair was sunbleached. She seemed unaware that she was in a chronic state of irritation. “Ronny’s coming home Friday. I hope you haven’t forgotten.”
    â€œI haven’t but I’ve got a lunch on with a client from Seattle. It’s the only day he’s here—I tried to change it but I couldn’t. Can you meet the plane?”
    â€œWe both ought to be there.”
    â€œI’ll see how early I can get away.”
    â€œIt lands at half past two.”
    â€œI’ll try.”
    â€œPlease do.” She took his glass and carried both empties out to the kitchen. When she reappeared she looked drowsy—the drinks were catching up. “Well take me to bed, then.”
    It took him by surprise but he walked her to the bedroom with his hand on the small of her back; he felt through the thin fabric the warmth of her skin. They undressed in silence, peeled back the covers neatly and got into bed. He reached up for the light switch; they made love in darkness and she did not kiss him.
    4
    By the time he reached the airport Jan had already collected Ronny. Mathieson saw them coming along the concourse together, the boy maintaining a stiff distance from his mother: Ronny was eleven and painfully determined that no one mistake him for a momma’s boy. He seemed to have grown at least another two inches since June.
    Ronny held out his hand gravely and Mathieson shook it. “How you doin’, son?”
    â€œFine, Dad. How’re you?” Very grown up.
    They walked toward the baggage-claim turntable. “You look damn near bowlegged, boy. Didn’t they ever get you off a horse in the past ten weeks?”
    â€œOh sure. We had all kinds of activities. Man, you wouldn’t believe it, that’s a bad place.”
    Jan said, “When ‘bad’ comes to mean the spectacularly good, I wonder what that tells us about ourselves?”
    â€œOh, Mom, sheesh.”
    The boy stood straight up and flashed his white California smile and Mathieson was proud of him. Ronny rattled on about his adventures while they waited for, and collected, his duffel bag. They walked out into the thick heat of the parking lot. The boy got in the narrow bench that passed for a back seat in the Porsche and Mathieson gave him a critical look. “You’re growing too long to scrunch up back there.”
    Ronny was alarmed. “You wouldn’t sell it!”
    â€œNo. But I might have to hang a U-Haul trailer on behind for those mile-long legs of yours.” Mathieson flipped the bucket seat up for Jan; but she was looking back toward the terminal and she’d gone bolt still.
    He peered back that way. A man was standing on the curb by a taxi, looking at them. Then the man stooped to enter the taxi.
    Jan said, “Isn’t that …?”
    â€œBradleigh.”
    â€œBut I thought …”
    â€œIf he wants to see us he knows where to find us.”
    Ronny leaned forward. “Who’s that?”
    â€œJust an old acquaintance.” But sensations of alarm rubbed against Mathieson. He fitted the key into the ignition. Jan’s eyes had gone wide. He gave her hand a quick squeeze.
    5
    When they walked into the house the phone was ringing. He put down Ronny’s duffel bag and went to the receiver.
    â€œHello, Fred?”
    â€œYes.” He recognized the voice. Jan was in the doorway watching him and he contrived an