By Gil Brewer
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Additional info for A Taste for Sin
He chuckled, his sharp lipstick-stained silk shirt very neat across sharp shoulders. He looked as neat as a brand new partly folded clasp knife. I looked at him. ” I wanted to say plenty to him, and couldn’t say anything about what he’d told Felice. He started to speak. He’d been drinking but had it under control. “You probably read it in the paper,” I said. ” “It wasn’t in the morning paper. ” The girl giggled. A Taste for Sin — 44 “Take it easy,” he said softly. ” Then he really slipped. “What you got going with this Anderson babe?
I didn’t think you’d answer the phone at headquarters, with all those handsome officers—I’m a bit hysterical, Dick, don’t mind me. Sorry I had to run out on you last night—a horrible thing happened. I want to report a rape, clothes all torn, lying all over the house. Yes, me! You know this store—this liquor store that was broken into last night? ” I said. “Yes, two. ” “Body and soul, darling. C O. D. The quart size, too, please. None of those fifths for me. ” She hung up. She had rolled the “r” beautifully.
I mean, she insisted, too—imagine. I mean, he beat me, he beat the living hell out of me, chasing me all over the house with Maria running after us, chewing on a knuckle and scratching herself. He didn’t say a word, nothing—he just beat me. He’d catch me and feel me and throw me across the room. Then, finally, he got me and tore my clothes off. I mean, just ripped them into tatters, you see? That’s right. I was scared out of my mind. Scared so I couldn’t even yell. I just made screams like in a dream when you want to scream only nothing happens.
A Taste for Sin by Gil Brewer