Read Online Bone Orchard by Doug Johnson, Lizz-Ayn Shaarawi - Free Book Online
Authors: Doug Johnson, Lizz-Ayn Shaarawi
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innocence twisted into a cruel sneer.
“They’ll think you’re crazy,” Lazarus said. He fixed his glare on her. A hyphen of blood had dried on her bottom lip where the desk drawer had nailed it. That luminous Van Winkle skin was bruised and her clothing seemed specifically chosen to suggest she’d just been violated. He searched her face for some chink in the armor, but there was simply none to be found. Kitty was nutters, all right. But it didn’t mean that she was wrong.
“Bit of a dump, innit?”
Sian nosed around the parlor. From the looks of this room it was a dump. A dump with peeling wallpaper, shabby Victorian fixtures, a battered grandfather clock and a sixty-thousand-dollar stereo.
“Just means he don’t put on airs. Common folk, like.”
Sian sniffed, unimpressed.
The door opened and Kitty shoved Lazarus through. Sian’s expression flipped like a Venetian blind, suddenly donning a convincing replica of a smile.
“Cozy in here!”
Kitty matched the plastic smile with one of her own.
“Thanks!”
“Sorry, Lazarus,” Dylan said. “This here’s my lady friend, Sian.”
Sian thrust a limp hand toward him. “Charmed.”
Lazarus gave it a half-hearted shake and an awkward moment passed as everyone waited for him to continue the introductions. Kitty cleared her throat.
“Ah. This is, uh…”
Kitty held out her hand and finished for him.
“Lola.”
She gave Dylan and Sian tight-gripped handshakes. Dylan winced.
“Make yourselves at home,” Lazarus said. “We’ll get some refreshments.”
He took Kitty firmly by the elbow and led her out. Sian immediately resumed her snooping and spotted Kitty’s skull bag on the sofa.
She rifled through the bag, apparently finding no indignity in it whatsoever.
“Dylan, look at this!”
“What’s wrong with you? Leave it.”
She held up a pair of handcuffs. “Someone likes to get naughty.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Nothing you haven’t done.”
Sian pulled a black rubber tube with diamond-patterned ribbing from the bag. It looked vaguely like a vibrating dildo from the Matrix.
“What the hell is this?” she asked. “Some sort of sex toy?”
“Put it back!”
Sian hit a release button and a spring-loaded steel truncheon telescoped out of the tube.
“Fuck me,” Dylan gawked.
“You think she’s an escort?” Sian asked.
“High end from the looks of it. Did you see the marks on him? Bet he had to pay extra for that.”
Sian snorted. “ Lola , my ass.”
In the kitchen, Lazarus boiled water in an electric kettle while Kitty organized a tea set beside him.
“Don’t do anything rash,” he said. “It’s not them you want, its me. We’ll have a cuppa tea and I’ll send them on their way.”
She reached under the sinks and pulled out a can of drain cleaning crystals. Lazarus might have noticed had all his attention not been focused on hiding the pen in his hand.
“I don’t know. They’ve seen me. They can identify me.”
He poured boiling water from the kettle to the teapot.
“I thought you said you couldn’t be recognized. I thought you said your plan was foolproof.”
He reached into an upper cabinet. While Kitty arranged the tea set, he hastily scrawled a message on a linen napkin:
HELP. CALL POLICE. SHES CRAZY.
A puzzled look crossed Kitty’s face, but she played it off by tinkering with the teacups.
“Don’t go getting your hopes up, baby. You’re dying tonight.”
Shielded by the cabinet door, Lazarus folded the napkin and realized with mild concern that the ink showed through the linen. His pulse stepped up a tick in his chest and he folded it again. Concern quickly escalated to alarm. No matter how he folded the napkin, the ink was still blatantly obvious. So was his silence. Kitty looked over suspiciously.
“What are you up to?”
He closed the cabinet, shoved the napkin into a stack of others and dropped them onto the tray. When he turned to face her, Kitty was peeking into
“They’ll think you’re crazy,” Lazarus said. He fixed his glare on her. A hyphen of blood had dried on her bottom lip where the desk drawer had nailed it. That luminous Van Winkle skin was bruised and her clothing seemed specifically chosen to suggest she’d just been violated. He searched her face for some chink in the armor, but there was simply none to be found. Kitty was nutters, all right. But it didn’t mean that she was wrong.
“Bit of a dump, innit?”
Sian nosed around the parlor. From the looks of this room it was a dump. A dump with peeling wallpaper, shabby Victorian fixtures, a battered grandfather clock and a sixty-thousand-dollar stereo.
“Just means he don’t put on airs. Common folk, like.”
Sian sniffed, unimpressed.
The door opened and Kitty shoved Lazarus through. Sian’s expression flipped like a Venetian blind, suddenly donning a convincing replica of a smile.
“Cozy in here!”
Kitty matched the plastic smile with one of her own.
“Thanks!”
“Sorry, Lazarus,” Dylan said. “This here’s my lady friend, Sian.”
Sian thrust a limp hand toward him. “Charmed.”
Lazarus gave it a half-hearted shake and an awkward moment passed as everyone waited for him to continue the introductions. Kitty cleared her throat.
“Ah. This is, uh…”
Kitty held out her hand and finished for him.
“Lola.”
She gave Dylan and Sian tight-gripped handshakes. Dylan winced.
“Make yourselves at home,” Lazarus said. “We’ll get some refreshments.”
He took Kitty firmly by the elbow and led her out. Sian immediately resumed her snooping and spotted Kitty’s skull bag on the sofa.
She rifled through the bag, apparently finding no indignity in it whatsoever.
“Dylan, look at this!”
“What’s wrong with you? Leave it.”
She held up a pair of handcuffs. “Someone likes to get naughty.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Nothing you haven’t done.”
Sian pulled a black rubber tube with diamond-patterned ribbing from the bag. It looked vaguely like a vibrating dildo from the Matrix.
“What the hell is this?” she asked. “Some sort of sex toy?”
“Put it back!”
Sian hit a release button and a spring-loaded steel truncheon telescoped out of the tube.
“Fuck me,” Dylan gawked.
“You think she’s an escort?” Sian asked.
“High end from the looks of it. Did you see the marks on him? Bet he had to pay extra for that.”
Sian snorted. “ Lola , my ass.”
In the kitchen, Lazarus boiled water in an electric kettle while Kitty organized a tea set beside him.
“Don’t do anything rash,” he said. “It’s not them you want, its me. We’ll have a cuppa tea and I’ll send them on their way.”
She reached under the sinks and pulled out a can of drain cleaning crystals. Lazarus might have noticed had all his attention not been focused on hiding the pen in his hand.
“I don’t know. They’ve seen me. They can identify me.”
He poured boiling water from the kettle to the teapot.
“I thought you said you couldn’t be recognized. I thought you said your plan was foolproof.”
He reached into an upper cabinet. While Kitty arranged the tea set, he hastily scrawled a message on a linen napkin:
HELP. CALL POLICE. SHES CRAZY.
A puzzled look crossed Kitty’s face, but she played it off by tinkering with the teacups.
“Don’t go getting your hopes up, baby. You’re dying tonight.”
Shielded by the cabinet door, Lazarus folded the napkin and realized with mild concern that the ink showed through the linen. His pulse stepped up a tick in his chest and he folded it again. Concern quickly escalated to alarm. No matter how he folded the napkin, the ink was still blatantly obvious. So was his silence. Kitty looked over suspiciously.
“What are you up to?”
He closed the cabinet, shoved the napkin into a stack of others and dropped them onto the tray. When he turned to face her, Kitty was peeking into
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