Read Online Here Comes the Corpse by Mark Richard Zubro - Free Book Online

stupidity is.”
    “Fuck you”—delivered in a full-throated roar. No snarl when he was truly pissed.
    “I’ve got a question, several in fact.” I pointed to the monitor. “What were you looking for on the Internet?”
    “Nothing.”
    “I can download the history and find out where you’ve been.”
    “Not if I went there when I finished and erased it.”
    I hate how kids know so much about computers. Even more I hated the triumphant tone in his voice. I asked, “How were you planning to get this stuff out of here and where were you taking it to?”
    Now I got a silence filled with oceans of defiance. His arms were folded across his chest. His jaw was set. The eyes were focused on the middle distance, a trick usually reserved for inhabitants of B-list British novels.
    I thought I’d try logical progression of thought. This doesn’t work often enough with your average recalcitrant teenager, but it’s better than torturing them painfully in a dark, dank dungeon, no matter how tempting this last alternative might be. I said, “I don’t understand how you think silence is going to help right now. You either did or did not think the whole thing through: coming here, lying, and ripping us off. I’m curious about your thought process.”
    No response.
    “Why didn’t you just run away somewhere closer to home, to a friend’s, why here?”
    Nothing.
    “It’s a little late to put everything back right now. Why don’t you go to bed, and we can resume our lack of discussion in the morning.” I paused at the doorway and looked back. “In case you’re planning to leave tonight without telling us, 55 be aware the doorman in the lobby is on duty twenty-four hours a day. The parking garage always has an attendant on the premises. As far as I’m concerned, you are free to leave. I’m just letting you know your departure without merchandise would be noted. With merchandise, you’d be stopped.” I didn’t wait for a reply. I wasn’t about to trust the little creep. I watched him leave.
    Almost everything about him made me uneasy. Not trusting him was one thing. There was something very not right about this kid. I returned to the computer that Donny had turned on and checked the Internet history. In fact, I couldn’t even find evidence that he’d gone on-line. The kid was either very good at covering his tracks, or he hadn’t had time to use the thing much. Then again, he could have just turned it on out of curiosity. Yeah, right. I believed that. He had to have a reason for turning it on. I doubted if he was ever going to tell me what it was.
    We had thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment in this room. We’d had security devices installed on all the exits to the penthouse and on rooms with valuable items such as this one. I set the electronic lock and watched the quarter-inchthick glass door glide shut. I called security, then sent the elevator to the ground floor. He’d be unable to recall it without the key. He wasn’t getting out downstairs without us knowing. I set the alarm on the emergency exits to the stairs. Up here he couldn’t leave without breaking a window and jumping. With the kind of glass we had on this floor, he’d probably need a cannon to break it. He didn’t strike me as a jumper. A user, a taker, a manipulator—sure. Suicidal? I figured he was making that up, too.
    I crawled back into bed next to Scott. He stirred in his sleep. I lay close to him and shut my eyes.

7
     
    The bright morning sun flooding through the floor-to-ceiling windows brought with it a ringing phone. It was the doorman announcing my parents, my sister and her husband, and Ethan’s parents, Rachel and Perry Gahain. Scott was in the shower. I threw on jeans, white socks, tennis shoes, and a logoless sweatshirt. It was seven in the morning. We’d gone to bed at three. I’d confronted Donny around four. I called to Scott to tell him they were here. He said he’d hurry. There was no sign of Scott’s nephew as