Read Online Lassiter 06 - Fool Me Twice by Paul Levine - Free Book Online Page A

Blinky. I found a pay phone and called his
apartment. “Hello, this is Baroso Enterprises, Inc. Please leave a
message at the tone, and…”
    It was nearly eleven, so I said to hell with
it and walked back to my car, which still had its aerial, hubcaps,
and AM radio intact. It occurred to me that Blinky might have
gotten mixed up. Ever since the trial, he had been in a daze. He
might be at my house, probably waiting on the front porch, cursing
me. Hitting seventy on the brief stretch of the interstate, I was
back on Kumquat Street in the Grove in fourteen minutes.
    I parked under the
chinaberry tree, same as always. The moon was higher in the sky
now, the night warm and muggy, no trace of an oceanfront breeze
here. I listened for the warbling of my mockingbird. He is my bird the way the
raccoon who knocks over my garbage cans is my raccoon. But the
mocker usually is perched in my marlberry bush, singing nighttime
songs. Mimus polyglottos, Doc Riggs calls him, mimic of many tongues. He’s
not much to look at, sort of a battleship gray with white wing
patches, but like the bobwhite, nighthawk, and whippoorwill, he’s
got a voice.
    As I approached the front
porch, I heard a sound from the hibiscus hedge, or maybe I sensed
movement there. It could have been a variety of nighttime animals,
including Peifidus
nocturnus , who might be waiting to mug an
honest citizen such as myself. I’m as brave as the next guy, and I
don’t mind a fair fight, but a punk kid with a semiautomatic could
tattoo a ring around my heart before I got off a punch, so I
hurried to the front door.
    The sound was barely more than a squeak.
“Uncle Jake.”
    I turned and ran back to the hedge. Huddled
in the dirt, hidden by leaves and floppy red flowers was the boy in
the Dolphins jersey. I reached down to him, and he crawled into my
arms. “Uncle Jake, you’re home.”
    He was crying, his tears tracking down grimy
cheeks.
    I was stunned. “What the hell’s going
on?”
    He pointed toward the house, his hand
shaking. “I woke up and heard voices downstairs. Then, somebody
came up the steps. Slow, like he was listening for something. I got
so scared, I crawled under the bed. Somebody opened my door, looked
in, and closed it. Then he went into your bedroom. I heard sounds
in there, but I just stayed under the bed. He went downstairs
again, and I heard voices, real soft, then a noise like furniture
being moved. Uncle Jake, I was so scared ...”
    I squeezed him in my arms. “Kip, I’m sorry.
I shouldn’t have left you. I’ll never do it again, but you were
dreaming, that’s all. No one was in the house. You’ve seen too many
of those movies where maniacs with razors go after the kids.”
    He was shaking his head. “Honest, Uncle
Jake. You gotta believe me. After a while, I heard the front door
close, so I sneaked to the stairs. Then I saw it. Even though it
was dark, I knew what it was.”
    “ What?”
    Again, he pointed at the house with a shaky
hand. “I didn’t want to go out through the front. I just couldn’t
go into the room, so I ran back to my bedroom, climbed out the
window, and crossed the roof to the tree in back.”
    “ You came down the tree?
Why?”
    He started crying again.
    “ Hey, Kip. Everything’s
okay. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go in the house
together.”
    He shook his head and squeezed me
tighter.
    “ Okay, Kippers, I’ll go in.
Will you wait for me?”
    He nodded and wiped his nose on the sleeve
of my old jersey. I carried him to the car and put him in the front
seat. He sat there, rocking back and forth, hugging his knees. I
went back to the porch, hit the front door with a solid shoulder
and barged in. Moonlight slanted through the windows and lit the
room in ashen grays. It was silent, except for the
whompeta-whompeta of the ceiling fan. Which seemed to whomp slower
than usual.
    I saw it then, or sensed it.
    A shadow, a shape, a movement.
    I looked up. A dark silhouette flew just
over my head.
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