Read Online Evil Grows & Other Thrilling Tales by Loren D. Estleman - Free Book Online
Authors: Loren D. Estleman
Tags: Mystery & Crime
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Where's George?"
"Not know George," she said.
"Keep it on her. If she jumps, take off her head." The sandy man came around the counter.
Iiko stood still while the man ran his hands over her smock. She didn't even move when they lingered at her small breasts and crotch. He took the fifty-two dollars and the knife from her pockets. He showed Leon the knife.
"That's George's shank, all right," said the black man. "He carries it open when he has to walk more'n a block to his car. He's almost as scared of muggers as he is of guns."
The sandy man slapped Iiko's face. She remained unmoving. She could feel the hot imprint of his palm on her cheek.
"One more time before we disturb the peace, Dragon Lady. Where's George Myrtle?"
She turned and went through the door behind the counter. The two men followed.
In the massage room the sandy man felt behind Mr. Ten Fifty-Five's ear, then said, "Deader'n Old Yeller."
"I don't see no marks," Leon said.
"Of course not. Look at him. He as good as squiffed himself the day he topped two forty and started taking elevators instead of climbing the stairs. I bet he never said no to a second helping of mashed potatoes in his life. Check out his clothes."
Leon returned the big gun to a holster under his left arm and quickly turned out all the pockets of the coat and trousers, then with a grunt held the coat upside-down and showed his companion the place where the lining had been pulled loose.
The sandy man looked at Iiko. She saw something in his pale eyes that she remembered from the day her brother was killed.
"This ain't turning out the way I figured," the sandy man said. "I was looking forward to watching Leon bat around that tub of guts until he told us what he done with them hot rocks. I sure don't enjoy watching him do that to a woman. Especially not to a pretty little China doll like you. How's about sparing me that and telling me what you did with the merch?"
"Not know merch," she said truthfully.
Leon started toward her. The sandy man stopped him with a hand. He was still looking at Iiko.
"You got more of these rooms?" he asked.
After a moment she nodded and stepped in the direction of the curtain over the doorway. The black man's bulk blocked that path.
"Search the rest of the place, Leon. I'll take care of this." "Sure?"
"Sure."
Leon went out. Iiko led the sandy man through the curtains and across the narrow hallway. This room was larger, although still small. A forest of bottles containing scented oils stood on a rack beside the massage table. The sandy man seized her arm and spun her around. They were close now, and the light in his eyes had changed. She could smell his aftershave, sticky and sharp.
"You're sure a nice little piece for a slant. I bet old George had some times with you. Especially at the end."
Iiko didn't struggle.
The sandy man said, "I could use a little rub myself. You rub me, I rub you. What do you say? Then we'll talk."
After a moment she nodded. "Take off clothes."
"You first."
He let go of her and stepped back, his small hard fists dangling at his sides. He watched her unbutton and peel off the smock. Without hesitating, she undid her halter top and stepped out of her shorts. She wore no underthings. She knew her body was good, firm and well-proportioned for her small frame. She could see in his eyes he approved.
He took a long breath and let it out. Then he took off his shiny black coat. He hung his suit carefully on the wooden hanger on the wall peg, folded his shirt and put it on the seat of the chair. His ribs showed, but his pale, naked arms and legs were sinewy, the limbs of a runner.
He saw that she saw. "I work out. I ain't going to do you no favor like George and clock out on the table."
She said nothing. He stretched out on his stomach on the padded table. "No oil," he said. "I don't want to ruin my clothes. Just powder."
She reached for the can of talcum. While her back was turned to him, she laid down the folding knife she had
"Not know George," she said.
"Keep it on her. If she jumps, take off her head." The sandy man came around the counter.
Iiko stood still while the man ran his hands over her smock. She didn't even move when they lingered at her small breasts and crotch. He took the fifty-two dollars and the knife from her pockets. He showed Leon the knife.
"That's George's shank, all right," said the black man. "He carries it open when he has to walk more'n a block to his car. He's almost as scared of muggers as he is of guns."
The sandy man slapped Iiko's face. She remained unmoving. She could feel the hot imprint of his palm on her cheek.
"One more time before we disturb the peace, Dragon Lady. Where's George Myrtle?"
She turned and went through the door behind the counter. The two men followed.
In the massage room the sandy man felt behind Mr. Ten Fifty-Five's ear, then said, "Deader'n Old Yeller."
"I don't see no marks," Leon said.
"Of course not. Look at him. He as good as squiffed himself the day he topped two forty and started taking elevators instead of climbing the stairs. I bet he never said no to a second helping of mashed potatoes in his life. Check out his clothes."
Leon returned the big gun to a holster under his left arm and quickly turned out all the pockets of the coat and trousers, then with a grunt held the coat upside-down and showed his companion the place where the lining had been pulled loose.
The sandy man looked at Iiko. She saw something in his pale eyes that she remembered from the day her brother was killed.
"This ain't turning out the way I figured," the sandy man said. "I was looking forward to watching Leon bat around that tub of guts until he told us what he done with them hot rocks. I sure don't enjoy watching him do that to a woman. Especially not to a pretty little China doll like you. How's about sparing me that and telling me what you did with the merch?"
"Not know merch," she said truthfully.
Leon started toward her. The sandy man stopped him with a hand. He was still looking at Iiko.
"You got more of these rooms?" he asked.
After a moment she nodded and stepped in the direction of the curtain over the doorway. The black man's bulk blocked that path.
"Search the rest of the place, Leon. I'll take care of this." "Sure?"
"Sure."
Leon went out. Iiko led the sandy man through the curtains and across the narrow hallway. This room was larger, although still small. A forest of bottles containing scented oils stood on a rack beside the massage table. The sandy man seized her arm and spun her around. They were close now, and the light in his eyes had changed. She could smell his aftershave, sticky and sharp.
"You're sure a nice little piece for a slant. I bet old George had some times with you. Especially at the end."
Iiko didn't struggle.
The sandy man said, "I could use a little rub myself. You rub me, I rub you. What do you say? Then we'll talk."
After a moment she nodded. "Take off clothes."
"You first."
He let go of her and stepped back, his small hard fists dangling at his sides. He watched her unbutton and peel off the smock. Without hesitating, she undid her halter top and stepped out of her shorts. She wore no underthings. She knew her body was good, firm and well-proportioned for her small frame. She could see in his eyes he approved.
He took a long breath and let it out. Then he took off his shiny black coat. He hung his suit carefully on the wooden hanger on the wall peg, folded his shirt and put it on the seat of the chair. His ribs showed, but his pale, naked arms and legs were sinewy, the limbs of a runner.
He saw that she saw. "I work out. I ain't going to do you no favor like George and clock out on the table."
She said nothing. He stretched out on his stomach on the padded table. "No oil," he said. "I don't want to ruin my clothes. Just powder."
She reached for the can of talcum. While her back was turned to him, she laid down the folding knife she had
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