Read Online Double Cross [2] by Carolyn Crane - Free Book Online

the conspiracy theories he and the Slinger have been discussing. The main one involves the FDA, the Trilateral Commission, and remakes of Disney cartoons.
    The Brick Slinger’s suicide—he smashed in his own head after Otto caught him—was described in gory detail by the reporter on the scene, but it actually never happened. Otto’s revisionist assistant, Sophia, erased the reporter’s memory and inserted a new experience of her own imagining. That’s her creepy power.
    “His political obsessions got so bad, the Slinger actually cut himself off from the news two years ago. I’m catching him up,” Helmut reports. And his way of catching him up will be highly disturbing. You don’t want to discuss geopolitics with Helmut any more than you want to discuss future hopes and dreams with Shelby.
    Enrique snickers and twists his diamond earring. Helmut tells us he’ll hand the Brick Slinger over to Vesuvius next for a crash in self-esteem; then Shelby will destroy his sense of hope.
    Suddenly Helmut’s waving, and a burly bald man with a gray mustache comes over. Helmut introduces him as Parsons, the head of Packard’s secret bodyguard team. Parsons seems very in-charge and confident. Good.
    Outside on the walk, I bump into Simon in his big crazy coat and ask him if he’s got anything.
    Simon shakes his head. “I spoke with three people, one a longtime coworker.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “They all think she made up the relationship.”
    “So the whole my-boyfriend-did-it story was a lie after all.”
    Simon screws up his lips, inspecting my face for a while. “You seem relieved.”
    “I want to get at the truth.”
    “We’re not there yet. I have two more people to speak with.”
    “Three wasn’t enough?” I ask.
    “There was a sameness in their wording. … I have a gut feeling.”
    I smile. “Sure it’s your gut?”
    “I spend my time with liars and bluffers, Justine. I’m not done.” He heads off.
    I leave my car at Mongolian Delites and walk the seven blocks to the Sapphire Sunset piano bar. The air chills my lungs when I breathe deep, freshening me to my toes. My fatigue begins lifting.
    Simon’s right about my being relieved that Ez is looking guilty. Maybe it’s wrong to be glad for that, but it simplifies things. I don’t want to disillusion an innocent person, but I sure don’t want to be a minion in my sleep. It’s bad enough that I’m one when I’m awake.
    Oddly, as I near the bar, my eagerness to see Ez builds.
    Sapphire Sunset comes into view on the next block. It’s a squat rectangle of blue stucco with black trim and shutters, and it sits right in the middle of a motley row of restaurants and antiques stores. Behind it is a hill that leads steeply down to the blocks along the lakefront. As I step up my pace, I spot a familiar blue car parked along the curb, with a familiar figure leaning against it, face turned to the winter sun. Packard.
    I get a pang as I think of him so young and scared. And those corpse fingers in the walls! Him trying to cover them, block them.
    Packard has a cardboard tray with two coffees and a bakery bag with an
M
logo. Maria’s corner deli—the place where I’d get coffees for Packard when he was trapped. He points to one. “Cow brown.”
    Cow brown. His description for how I take my coffee—just a splash of cream. “Thanks.”
    “And the other’s for you to bring to her.” He hands me the stuff. “She’ll respond emotionally to offerings like this.”
    “Okay, Packard. Thanks.”
    His eyes are light green in the sunshine, shot through with tiny bright lines. “What?”
    “Nothing.”
    He tilts his head, whiskers a sparkle of sand below his cheekbones. “You dreamed something.”
    “Now I tell you my dreams?” I set the coffees on the hood and open the bag. The fragrant steam of banana nut muffins caresses my nose. My favorite kind.
    “Let’s have it. We need to know how she’s working us.”
    “You had it too,