River Girl by Charles Williams(14)

had said about the bed she’d made in the back? That
would be perfect. There would be a lot less chance of
our being spotted with just me alone up here than
with both of us. I put her down temporarily in the
seat while I reached for the keys to unlock the trunk.
Then I noticed I was still carrying the jailer’s key
ring in my hand. I threw it out into the street and
went around to the back, and unlocked the trunk and
raised it. She went into it perfectly, curled up like a
child with her head on the pillow. But suppose she
wakes up there in the dark, I thought. I ran back to
the front and looked in the glove compartment.
There was a flashlight, as I had hoped, and I
snapped it on and put it down beside her on the
blankets. She’ll know where she is, I thought.
I didn’t want to leave her. But it’s only for a little
while, I thought. As soon as we’re out of the worst of
the danger area I’ll pull off onto a side road
somewhere, by a little creek, and she can get out
and I’ll shave myself. I put the shell down and went
back and lifted the back seat up, pulled it out a little.
Feeling back with my hand, I could see there was
plenty of opening for air to get through, and with the
shell closed the carbon monoxide from the exhaust
couldn’t back up on her.
I jumped into the seat, and then discovered I had
left the keys in the lock of the trunk. I was getting
jittery with the hurry now. There still wasn’t anyone
in the street and it was growing light. I ran back,
snatched them out, and climbed in. It had been too
easy, and I was scared.

River Girl by Charles Williams(13)

the rifle almost at the same time because he was so

near. Before the sound had even died I was on my

feet, knowing somehow that I had to get up and over

the bank while he was working the bolt or I would

never move from there alive. And then I was in the

trees, hurtling zigzag through them while the gun

cracked again. They had cut the motors and in

another few seconds they would be on the bank

themselves and chasing me.

I didn’t know where I ran, or how far. There was

just the pain in my chest and the crying sound from

my open mouth as it gulped for air, and the only

thing my mind could hold was the picture of that

long, canvas-wrapped bundle like an old rolled-up

rug lying in the bottom of the second boat. After a

while I fell, unable to move, and lay there in the

brush trying to still the tortured sound of my

breathing enough to listen. There was no sound

behind me now.

River Girl — 223

Twenty-five

I don't know how long I lay there on the ground with

nothing but the numbness and the terror in my mind.

We were whipped now, and this was the end. They

already had her, and I was trapped. They had found

him; they knew I had killed him and I was a fugitive

with no plan of escape and nothing ahead but futile

and senseless flight. Flight? I thought. To where? I

looked down at my clothes, at the utter ruin that I

had deliberately sought,

River Girl by Charles Williams(12)

I pushed through the crowd to the lunch counter
and ordered a cup of coffee. What had she told
them? That was the question that went through my
River Girl — 208
mind over and over. Everything depended on that,
and there wasn’t any way I could know. Suppose she
had confessed? In spite of the sticky heat I felt the
chill between my shoulder blades. And it was
possible; I knew it. In her terror and confusion, not
even knowing what she had been picked up for, with
all of them firing questions at her, who knew what
she might blurt out?
But suppose, I thought, trying to pick up the
thread of thought I’d had before I realized I had to
get out of the hotel, suppose she kept her head and
hasn’t said anything so far? Then we’re safe enough
—for the moment. The danger then would lie in the
fact that eventually they might wear her down, keep
hammering at her until she let something slip, or
that eventually, as they kept looking for my body,
they might find Shevlin’s. That was a very real
danger now that Raines had joined in the search
because he wasn’t trying to cover anything up, as
Buford was. Therefore, I had to get her out of there.
But how? Obviously, the only way I could do it was
by turning myself in, or coming back to life. And
then they would be asking me the question, the big
one: Where was Shevlin?
But wait, I thought. I was very close to it a while
ago when I had to run away from the hotel. Suppose
I could come back to light in some way that wouldn’t
indicate I had ever been down here at all or even
knew her?

River Girl by Charles Williams(11)

Thinking of the watch reminded me of the time
and I looked at mine. It was after eight. The first
editions of the morning papers should be on the
street in a little while, if they weren’t already. I
should go down to the lobby and get them, I thought,
but it was too pleasant just sitting there waiting for
her to come out again so I could see how she looked.
I’ll pick them up when we go out to dinner, I
thought.
River Girl — 192
I heard the door open, and looked up and whistled
softly. She was very tall and smart-looking and cool
in a white skirt and short white jacket, with a blouse
of frosty blue gathered in some kind of ruffle about
her throat. The stockings were very sheer and she
had on white shoes that didn’t appear to be much
more than high heels and straps.
She turned, holding out her arms. “How do I look,
Jack?”
“Don’t come any closer. I might try to bite you.”
“Do I really look all right?”
I got up from the bed, conscious of what a crumbylooking
specimen I was now beside her, with nothing
on except my shorts and with the stubble of black