A Crying Shame (91 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: A Crying Shame
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From the best college in the world,” Tammy said.
The world itself. If a man wants to absorb it, the knowledge is all around him.”
A philosopher in our midst?” Linda smiled.
Hell, no!”
Linda laughed. She sobered quickly, her thoughts of Jon.
I . . . have a feeling for him,” she admitted.
Much stronger than anything I have heretofore felt for any man. But our worlds are diametrically opposite.”
Bullshit!” Tammy said.
That man is all man, Linda. Not one ounce of strutting peacock in him. You can always tell the real men. They don't go with fads; fashion means nothing to them. They wear what looks good on them and if others don't like it, they can damned well go to hell.
That man out there wouldn't give a shit about a night out with the boys; he's spent ten thousand nights out with the boys. What he wants, whether he'll admit it, or not, is a home. Some kids he can raise to be real men and proper ladies, and he'd do it, too . . . Don't kid yourself. He'd start teaching them when they first opened their eyes. He'd give them all the love they needed and the proper discipline and values.
I've only met one other man like him in my entire life, and you know what? That man was once a professional adventurer.”
Linda turned, her smile knowing.
Tammy met her eyes.
You're a lucky lady, lady.”
You know, Tammy, I believe you're right.”
 
Jon had worked the afternoon through, pausing only occasionally to gaze at the swamp. He knew he was being watched. He wondered about the Links who were not crazed; and for the first time in his professional career, wondered if what he planned was right—just—moral.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind. He was a warrior, not a philosopher. Let someone else mull over the enigmatical aspects of right and wrong.
Dusk began to settle its soft blanket over the bayous and the fields, coming swiftly, night only moments behind. Jon pulled his .45 from leather and automatically checked the pistol: a round in the chamber, hammer down, off safety. He checked the M-10, slung it, then called for one of the ladies to turn on the floodlights. Within seconds the grounds around the estate, from the edge of the swamp to the road, and on both sides, were as bright as day. Jon looked toward the blur of darkness that was the swamp.

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