The Glass Butterfly Read Free Page A

it.”
    â€œOh, absolutely!” he said. He withdrew his hand, and she felt the slight scrape of his nails against her palm. That made her shudder. That, of all things, after what had happened? The touch of someone else’s nails? Ridiculous.
    â€œHow old is she? This is a great car for a girl,” he said. He opened the door, and pointed to the bud vase attached to the dash. “They all love those,” he said. “And I’ll bet she loves yellow. Girls love yellow.”
    â€œWell, yes,” she said. “I think she does. And it’s an automatic, so that’s good.” It was tempting to say more, but Ice Woman stopped herself. The less information she offered, the less he’d remember about her.
    â€œSpecial gift?” he asked.
    She said, “Birthday.”
    â€œBirthday, nice, nice. What a nice mom! How much were you thinking of spending?”
    She bent forward to see what the card on the windshield read, then leaned inside to check the mileage. Okay, it already had 120,000 miles on it. But it was a VW. Surely it could manage a few more. She straightened, and said, “About half what you’re asking, actually. That’s a lot of miles.”
    He smiled, and nodded. “Absolutely, absolutely. You know how it is. That’s a starting point.” He looked up at the office, little more than a lighted cubicle in the darkness, and she realized he was alone on the lot. The light showed the office was empty.
    She glanced pointedly at her wrist. She had been wearing her wristwatch when she left, just a Timex. Now it was the only jewelry she had left to her. “Look, Adam,” she said. “Can we get to the end point? This was sort of an impulse, and I need to—”
    â€œOh, absolutely, absolutely. Make me an offer, and I’ll call my manager.”
    It didn’t take long after that. She offered him eight hundred, and could tell by the way his face lit up that it was going to be enough. There was a bit of awkwardness when she slipped into the office restroom and came out with eight hundred in cash in her hand, but they got through it. He gave her a curious glance as she counted out eight hundred-dollar bills and one fifty to cover the sales tax, but he didn’t say anything. When he asked her to step into the office and sign papers, she folded an extra fifty and slipped it into his hand. She said, “My daughter will come and do that tomorrow, okay?”
    â€œWell—I guess that would work. I’ll just say you’re driving the car on approval.” He pocketed the bill, his cheeks flushing guiltily.
    Ice Woman persuaded the salesman to fill the gas tank. Within half an hour she was climbing into the car, inserting the key into the ignition, praying the thing would start. The salesman stood by, watching, no doubt joining her in her prayer. When the engine obediently came to life, a look of relief passed over his pimply features. She put the car in gear, and Adam stepped back, waving and smiling. Ice Woman waved back, then gunned the engine, zipping out into the street with a little rush that made the bud vase wobble in its holder. She glanced into the rearview mirror as she drove away, but Adam had gone back into his office, and was grinning as he spoke into a telephone. Someone, at least, was happy tonight.
    Tory turned her eyes back to the road, searching for street signs as she tried to get used to the little car, adjusting the mirrors, locating the windshield wipers. She turned south toward Hartford, where she could catch Interstate 91. She wished she could go north, but crossing the border without identification was out of the question. She could find a map at a service station, but she thought for now she would just let her sense of direction guide her. She didn’t know where she was going, in any case. Just away. As far away as she could possibly go, and as quickly as she could accomplish it.
    She drove off into the