Read Online Ask the Dice by Ed Lynskey - Free Book Online
Authors: Ed Lynskey
Tags: Mystery & Crime
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shoes, and you'd feel the same way as I do."
"A handgun lies at the bottom of your duffel bag. Why is that?"
Off the bat, I stewed to let her have it but good for snooping in my stuff, but she had me at more than a slight disadvantage here. "Ain't no big thing, baby. Like I just said, I wanted the self-protection, and a local pawnbroker sold it to me for a song." I shut up. The barest lies went over the smoothest. Dress them up too garish, and they stood out like pink lipstick on a pig. "Now where's that good bud?"
Bunnie, left hand planted on contoured hip, didn't shift out of her defiant stance. I sensed she'd in mind to call me a liar, and she'd be right as the rain slashing at our door. Instead, she pointed at me.
"Do you keep it real, Dice?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die, baby. Let's fire up that bud you were so nice to fetch us on a soupy night like this."
"Don't sell me short on the truth, Dice. Ever. Lie to me, and I'll go Lorena on you. Liars are pond scum, and I hate 'em."
I did a placatory hands down motion. "Okay, Bunnie, I hear you. Peace, okay? Jeez. Now where's my wallet?"
She picked it up and thrust it at me. "I burned two Benjamins. That's a righteous price, too, because it's primo weed. Leah is stoned for days while high on it."
"I like that sound. So, let's get down to it."
"Yes, so let's."
Bunnie doffed the white blouse, the top to her flight attendant's uniform. Her pear-shaped breasts and maraschino cherry nipples trumpeted in rising glory. I already bristled at full a-ten-hut. She'd gone out barefoot, and the best was yet to come unwrapped, when she halted her striptease, pirouetted, and dished me a coy half-smile.
"I'll be back in a jiff. Don't go anywhere or get started without me."
Now of all the times? "Will you be awful long, baby?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out."
After she sidled into the bathroom, I heard the balky ceiling fan clank on to run. My eyes swerved from the bathroom door to my duffel bag left on the chair. Ditch the piece , I thought . But where ? I wasn't tramping out into this tumult and getting zapped by a lightning bolt. A motel crib offers precious few hiding spots, and ours was barer than most. I always toted a roll of black electrician's tape, a handy aid in hushing the squawkers and subduing the squirmers.
The electrician's tape and the piece came out of my duffel bag. While I wiped down the piece on a pillowcase, no hiding place enticed me until I squinted at the zinc bed. Good enough. So, I rested my back on the shag carpet, wiggled my ass under the bed, and taped the piece to one of the four wood slats supporting the box spring and mattress. That concealment would keep the piece on ice until tomorrow's 747 had whisked me far and away from here. Later the Filipino maid turning the mattress and finding the piece would sell it back to the same shady pawnbroker who also dealt in Nazi memorabilia, and he'd be the one to catch any flak for possessing it.
The bathroom fan snapped off, the door gave way, and out sashayed Bunnie, nude and fecund. We necked like a couple of randy teenagers on the bed, smoked the bud,… and later, after we'd crashed and burned, Bunnie couldn't let it alone. I hoped she'd hush and fall asleep, as I teetered on the drowsy verge of doing myself.
"Dice…?"
"M'm-h'm, baby."
"Why are two shells in your handgun fired? Why does it smell acrid, like it was shot yesterday? Wait—don't answer me yet. There's more. Like you, I'm also mercenary. I love saying that word: mer-cen-ary . After I counted up all the loot stuffed inside your wallet, an epiphany rocked me—we can do business together!"
My heartbeats bashed a wrecking ball into my chest. This had turned into a bad trip on the bud. "Oh, but you see baby, I'm an independent contractor, and I only work solo."
"Now you can take on a partner. Or I can take what I know to the cops. The choice is yours."
"I wished you hadn't said that to me."
"Why is that?"
"Because now
"A handgun lies at the bottom of your duffel bag. Why is that?"
Off the bat, I stewed to let her have it but good for snooping in my stuff, but she had me at more than a slight disadvantage here. "Ain't no big thing, baby. Like I just said, I wanted the self-protection, and a local pawnbroker sold it to me for a song." I shut up. The barest lies went over the smoothest. Dress them up too garish, and they stood out like pink lipstick on a pig. "Now where's that good bud?"
Bunnie, left hand planted on contoured hip, didn't shift out of her defiant stance. I sensed she'd in mind to call me a liar, and she'd be right as the rain slashing at our door. Instead, she pointed at me.
"Do you keep it real, Dice?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die, baby. Let's fire up that bud you were so nice to fetch us on a soupy night like this."
"Don't sell me short on the truth, Dice. Ever. Lie to me, and I'll go Lorena on you. Liars are pond scum, and I hate 'em."
I did a placatory hands down motion. "Okay, Bunnie, I hear you. Peace, okay? Jeez. Now where's my wallet?"
She picked it up and thrust it at me. "I burned two Benjamins. That's a righteous price, too, because it's primo weed. Leah is stoned for days while high on it."
"I like that sound. So, let's get down to it."
"Yes, so let's."
Bunnie doffed the white blouse, the top to her flight attendant's uniform. Her pear-shaped breasts and maraschino cherry nipples trumpeted in rising glory. I already bristled at full a-ten-hut. She'd gone out barefoot, and the best was yet to come unwrapped, when she halted her striptease, pirouetted, and dished me a coy half-smile.
"I'll be back in a jiff. Don't go anywhere or get started without me."
Now of all the times? "Will you be awful long, baby?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out."
After she sidled into the bathroom, I heard the balky ceiling fan clank on to run. My eyes swerved from the bathroom door to my duffel bag left on the chair. Ditch the piece , I thought . But where ? I wasn't tramping out into this tumult and getting zapped by a lightning bolt. A motel crib offers precious few hiding spots, and ours was barer than most. I always toted a roll of black electrician's tape, a handy aid in hushing the squawkers and subduing the squirmers.
The electrician's tape and the piece came out of my duffel bag. While I wiped down the piece on a pillowcase, no hiding place enticed me until I squinted at the zinc bed. Good enough. So, I rested my back on the shag carpet, wiggled my ass under the bed, and taped the piece to one of the four wood slats supporting the box spring and mattress. That concealment would keep the piece on ice until tomorrow's 747 had whisked me far and away from here. Later the Filipino maid turning the mattress and finding the piece would sell it back to the same shady pawnbroker who also dealt in Nazi memorabilia, and he'd be the one to catch any flak for possessing it.
The bathroom fan snapped off, the door gave way, and out sashayed Bunnie, nude and fecund. We necked like a couple of randy teenagers on the bed, smoked the bud,… and later, after we'd crashed and burned, Bunnie couldn't let it alone. I hoped she'd hush and fall asleep, as I teetered on the drowsy verge of doing myself.
"Dice…?"
"M'm-h'm, baby."
"Why are two shells in your handgun fired? Why does it smell acrid, like it was shot yesterday? Wait—don't answer me yet. There's more. Like you, I'm also mercenary. I love saying that word: mer-cen-ary . After I counted up all the loot stuffed inside your wallet, an epiphany rocked me—we can do business together!"
My heartbeats bashed a wrecking ball into my chest. This had turned into a bad trip on the bud. "Oh, but you see baby, I'm an independent contractor, and I only work solo."
"Now you can take on a partner. Or I can take what I know to the cops. The choice is yours."
"I wished you hadn't said that to me."
"Why is that?"
"Because now
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