"Molly Brown - Community Service" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Molly)

"Doesn't affect you though, does it? And drugs don't do anything for you
guys, either... There's always stuff it's better not to leave to chance."
He dropped the bottle, letting it crash into pieces at his feet. "Your
name used to be Martina Wiley, by the way. Just in case you were
wondering..."
He clicked back the hammer on my gun.
"Jimmy, please don't do this. No matter what you say, I know what I
remember and the one thing I can't forget is that I've always loved you."
His face softened briefly. "I doubt it's any consolation, but after you
there won't be any more Nora Kellys. She wasn't a bad cop, but she was too
emotional. This isn't the first time a Nora's caused problems."
I brought one leg up in a sweeping kick, knocking the gun from Jimmy's
hand. As he bent forward to pick it up, I brought a hand down on the back
of his neck; I heard it crack.
He crumpled onto the floor. I knelt down beside him, cradling his head in
my arms. "Oh Jimmy, Jimmy, why?"
My world was falling apart. Jimmy, my best and only friend, the man I
loved more than I'd ever loved anyone, had tried to murder me.
He wasn't breathing.
"No," I sobbed, rocking his head like a baby. "Don't be dead. Don't leave
me!"
Something fell out of his jacket. I picked it up and saw a faded photo of
a redheaded woman, with large green eyes and a round face dotted with
freckles. Written across it were the words: To Jimmy, love forever, Nora.
She wasn't me.
I heard the sound of running feet out in the hall. I reached for my gun
and stood, letting Jimmy's head drop to the floor. Someone pounded on my
door, and then they tried to kick it in.
I climbed out onto the window ledge and started making my way around the
outside of the building. I seemed to have a head for heights.

© Molly Brown 1996, 2001
This story first appeared in Interzone 107, May 1996, and is reprinted in
Molly's collection Bad Timing and Other Stories.