Read Online Oasis of Night by J.S. Cook - Free Book Online

little. It was a crucifixion scene, but it had to be the weirdest one I’d ever laid eyes on. The man on the cross was naked except for a brief loincloth, and his contorted body rippled with muscle. His head was thrown back, but the facial expression was all wrong. His features were taut with erotic anticipation and his mouth was open. Moving closer, I could clearly see the outline of an erect phallus through the loincloth. The image was that of a man mere seconds away from sexual completion.
    Oh, Constable Picco, you naughty boy.
    I was still smiling when I descended to the kitchen and said my good-byes to Picco’s sister. She was engrossed in cutting up the largest mound of carrots I’d ever seen, and barely looked up when I left. I wondered what would happen to her if Picco wasn’t found—or if he wasn’t found in time.
    I stopped into the Theatre Pharmacy to use the phone. Chris picked up on the first ring, and I told him I was going to ask around a few of the George Street pubs to see if anyone knew anything. I wasn’t hopeful—lowlifes tend to be close-mouthed, in this or any town—but it was worth a try.
    Picco was well-known around downtown, but nobody in any of the bars I visited had seen him in a couple of days. I dropped word that I was looking for him, hinted darkly that he was in some kind of serious trouble, and left it at that. I would let the underground network do the rest for me.
    I got back to the Heartache around three in the afternoon, long after the lunch rush had come and gone. Chris was mopping up the bar and tidying things away when I got there. “I’m sorry.” I sat down on a bar stool. “I honestly didn’t mean to be gone so long.”
    â€œIt’s okay.” His grin didn’t reach his eyes, and I figured maybe he was pretty mad at me.
    â€œNo, it isn’t. I promised I’d be back in time to help out. I had no right leaving you here to mind the shop all by yourself. I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”
    He raised his soft brown eyes to mine. “You got dirt on your nose.”
    I raised my hand reflexively. “Yeah?”
    He swiped at it with a towel. “And there’s a guy waiting to see you in your office. I offered him a drink on the house, but he didn’t want anything.”
    â€œWhat guy?”
    â€œOne of these foreign-types. Wearing a real nice suit. He showed up around two o’clock, and when I told him you were out, he asked if he could wait.”
    â€œHuh. Okay.” I slid off the bar stool. “You want the night off?”
    His cloth moved in slow, meditative circles. “Nope.”
    I went back to my office and opened the door, and he was there—the Egyptian—and all of a sudden the air went out of my lungs. We are sailing down the Nile, just as you wished… the least you can do is pay attention. “You.” My mouth was dry. “It’s you. You came back.”
    â€œYes, I came back.” He extended his hand to me and I grasped it gladly. We held on to one another for a few moments, merely looking and smiling. “You seem very glad to see me.” That same humor was there in his voice, just under the surface, warm and gentle.
    â€œI am very glad to see you. Some coffee? Tea? Can I offer you a drink?”
    â€œI am a Moslem, Mr. Stoyles. My religion forbids the consumption of alcohol—but thank you. Perhaps we can have coffee another time?”
    â€œYeah, sure.” I couldn’t believe he was actually here, in my cafe, in my office. “Jeez, the last time you left here, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. You were asking for directions.”
    â€œYou seem surprised that I came back. Did you not expect to see me again?”
    â€œI, ah… yeah! I mean, no, I didn’t—Mr. Halim, I don’t want to seem—”
    â€œSam.” He smiled and my heart started beating double time.