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Show 106 Parker bit his tongue, wished he could stop the action on this scene. Whatever she was about to say, he knew, intuitively, he didn't want to hear it. He cleared his throat. "Hey, it doesn't matter." He shrugged, offered her his most reassuring grin. Now at least she was looking at him, but her eyes were wide and solemn. Crushing the napkin in her hand, she leaned toward him across the table. "Parker," she said, just above a whisper, "I'm really rotten. I know it . . . but I couldn't go through with it. You've got to believe me." He searched her face for a clue. "I broke into your house tonight. I got in through your bedroom window. I knew you were gone . . . and I thought . . . Oh Godl" She covered her mouth with both hands. Her forehead puckered and he thought she was going to cry. "This sounds so bizarre!" She bit down on her clenched fist, against knuckles straining white. Unbidden, the images piled up in Parker's head: the dufflebag she carried . . . the five dollars on his desk, payment for the paper boy . . .his mother's prized Hummels . . . his expensive climbing gear . . . "Why in the world would you do a thing like that?" he demanded. She swallowed so loud he could hear her. "Parker . . . I want to die!" "So would I," he said, "in your shoes." He thought of her shoes, the ones she wore in September and every day since. "I shouldn't have told you," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. What did she mean"she couldn't go through with it? Could he believe she hadn't taken anything? Could he even believe this was happening to him? "God, Dyna " he shook his head as if motion would clear his brain, "--start at the beginning, will you?" She pushed her coffee away. He figured the rejection included him, too, because her face hardened at the same time. "Look, I don't want any favors. You have to turn me in. Let's just go and get it over with." "Oh, no! You make it sound way too easy." |