Read Online Pernicious by James Henderson, Larry Rains - Free Book Online

record time. Neal lay on the floor in front of the television, snoring loudly. His checkbook was on the coffee table. She picked it up, stepped over Neal and went into the kitchen.
              She placed the checkbook on the stove and turned the burner on. Melting plastic dripped into the heating coil well and acrid smoke filled the kitchen.
              “What’s that burning?” Neal said.
              “Your checkbook.”
              “Yeah, right.” He stepped into the kitchen. “Give it to me!”
              “I burned it. Don’t you smell it? I told you to consult me before writing a check and you disregarded that.”
              Neal crossed his arms and glared at her. “I’m going to take a shower. When I get out, my checkbook better be on the table where I left it.”
              “It’s gone, Neal. I burned it.”
              “Then you better grow me one!” Neal shouted, and then went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
              Tasha stood there staring at the melting plastic, wondering if Neal had lost his hot-check-writing mind.
              Does he really think he can lounge around all day doing nothing but bouncing checks and jeopardizing my job?
              In their two-year-old marriage this was the angriest she’d seen him.  
              I’m not the one to be pushed around, threatened…I’m
    not the one!
              Tasha went into the bedroom, retrieved a key from atop the dresser, unlocked the red trunk at the foot of the bed, took from it a metal safe deposit box, dialed the combination and opened it.
              Inside were a 38 Midnight Special, which her father had given her upon graduation from the Academy, a 9mm Glock, a mace bottle and a Taser stun gun, which LRPD had issued.
              Briefly she considered the mace: effective but messy; and if she maced Neal, she’d be the one washing the stuff off his face.
              She picked up the Taser; it looked like a stapler with teeth. Unlike the mace, she’d never used the Taser, yet knew it packed one helluva jolt. She went into the hallway and waited for Neal.
              Minutes later he came out, still looking peeved, a white towel wrapped around his midriff. He passed by her not noticing her hands were behind her back and went into the living room.
              He quickly returned. “What the hell did I tell you? I tell you to do something, dammit, I mean for you to do it!” She could smell Scope, its minty freshness slapping her with each word. “You think I’m playing with you, don’t you?” His hands were to his sides, clenched. “Put my checkbook back on the damn table! Now!”
              “I burned it, Neal.”
              His hand went up, opened palm, as though to slap. Bad move.
              Tasha pointed the Taser and pulled the trigger. Two barbed probes attached to a thin wire shot out and caught Neal’s stomach, just above and a little to the right of his belly button. Later she would wonder if Neal was only feigning to hit her; he was moving rather slow.
              Neal screamed, “Aaaaaaaughh!” grabbed his stomach with both hands and jerked his left knee up. It looked as if he were preparing for a high dive. Then he fell on the floor, face first.
              “What were you saying, Neal?” removing the probes. “Did I think you were playing? No, I didn’t. You weren’t playing, were you?”
              Of course, Neal said nothing; he just lay there, as though he’d suddenly decided to nap on the floor in the middle of the hallway. She stepped into the bedroom and returned the Taser to the trunk.
              “That’ll teach him to try that Ike Turner crap with me,” she said to herself. “He’ll think long and hard the next time.”
              Back in the hallway she was