Shakespeares Champion Page 0,53

It's a little more subtle."

He gazed off at a corner of the asphalt. He'd come out without a jacket. I was meanly glad to see him shiver.

"OK. I'll start over," he said through gritted teeth. "You know I'm working, and you know what I am."

He waited for me to nod. To get it over with, I did.

"I am not seeing anyone right now. I've been divorced twice, but you may remember that from the papers."

I leaned against my car, feeling far away, glad to be there.

With the speed of a snake, he ran his hand under my jacket and T-shirt, placing it flat on my ribs. I gasped and flinched, but his hand stayed there, warm and firm.

"Move your hand," I said, my voice ragged.

"Got your attention. Listen to me. This job in Shakespeare will come to an end. I want to see you then."

I shivered, standing stock-still, rigid, taken by surprise. His fingers moved against my skin, touching the scars gently. A silver pickup pulled into the space two vehicles away and the driver gave us a curious look. I chopped down on Jack Leeds's wrist, knocking his hand from its intimate lodgment.

"I have to go to work, Jared," I said numbly, and got in my car and backed up, avoiding looking at him again.

Carrie was coming to supper tonight and I thought about what I'd fix, not one of my usual frozen-ahead dishes that I prepared on Sundays to carry me through the week. Maybe fettucini with ham ... or chili would be good, on such a chilly gray day, but I didn't have enough time to let it simmer.

Keeping my thoughts to a simple minimum, I managed my afternoon well. It was a relief to go home, to allow myself ten minutes in my favorite chair reading a news magazine. Then I set to work, tossing a salad, preparing the fettucini, heating some garlic bread, chopping the ham. When Carrie knocked on the front door, I was ready.

"Those morons at the hospital!" she said, sliding out of her coat, tossing her gloves on the table.

"Hello to you, too."

"You'd think they could see the handwriting on the wall. Everyone else can." The tiny Shakespeare Hospital was in perpetual crisis trying to maintain its accreditation, with no adequate budget to supply its lacks, which were legion.

I let Carrie bear the brunt of the conversation, which she seemed quite willing to do. There were few people Carrie could talk to, as a woman and a doctor and an outlander from northern Arkansas. I knew from previous talks with Carrie that she had gotten a loan to attend medical school. The terms of the loan stipulated that she had to go to somewhere other doctors didn't want to go and stay there for four years; and other doctors didn't want to go to Shakespeare. Carrie was one of four local GPs, who all made a decent living, but for more specialized medical care Shakespeareans had to travel to Montrose, or in dire need, Little Rock.

"Where'd you get the ring?" Carrie asked suddenly.

I'd been feeling a warm hand on my skin. It took me a second to reorient.

"The older Mrs. Winthrop says Marie Hofstettler left me this," I told Carrie.

"It's a pretty ring," she said. "Can I see it?"

I slid the ring off and handed it to Carrie. I thought of my strange visit to the Winthrop house the night before, the pallor of Howell Winthrop's face as he saw the ring box in my hand.

Some things that were supposed to be free actually came mighty expensive. I wondered if this little ring was one of them.

Then I wondered why that thought had crossed my mind.

I took the ring back from Carrie and slid it on my right hand, then took it back off and dropped it in my pocket. Carrie raised her thick dark brows, but didn't say anything.

We washed the dishes, talking in a companionable way of whatever crossed our minds: the price of milk, the vagaries of dealing with the public, the onset of hunting season (which would have a certain impact on Carrie's job and mine, since hunting engendered both injuries and dirt galore), and the recuperation of Claude, which continued at too slow a pace to suit him, and, I suspected, Carrie. She told me she'd gotten the green light to move Claude from an upstairs to a downstairs apartment, but that he wanted to be on the scene to direct the move, so a date hadn't