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Authors: Roy Johansen
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excitedly toward Freddy. “
That
was a pile-up!” He turned toward the others. “Some guy had a fender-bender, minor injuries, and the ambulance was taking him to the emergency room. But then it jumps the median on Holcomb Bridge Road, and
wham
!” He clapped his hands for emphasis. “It hits the pole of a Burger King sign. Everybody’s okay except the patient—he gets a broken back!”
Laszlo shook his head. “By the time he’s through with the ambulance company, he’ll be a millionaire.”
“What good is it if he can’t move?” Freddy asked.
“Please,” Hound Dog persisted, trying to get back to the original subject. “I know I’ve seen this woman somewhere before. None of you have shot her?”
“Even if it were fifty million dollars, it wouldn’t be worth it to you?” Laszlo asked.
“To be paralyzed for the rest of my life?” Freddy grimaced.
“Guys…” Hound Dog implored.
“Okay. What if it were just the waist down?”
“That’s the best part!”
It was no use. Hound Dog took the photo back, picked up her tray, and moved to another room.
“Idiots,” she muttered.
—
Carlos Valez slumped against a brick wall facing the Inman Park apartment complex. He’d been there only a few days before, the night he kicked the shit out of that lie detector guy. Now he was back, sitting next to the Dumpster, smoking a joint he had found in his buddy Jesus’s bathroom. He had been hiding out with Jesus since being thrown out of his father’s house.
It had been a nasty scene between him and his father. When the lie detector test came back and he lost his job, his father yelled and slapped him around. Alicia and the baby can stay, the old man said, but you’re outta here.
Carlos got him back. He beat the hell out of him.
Stupid old man reported him to the police.
Maybe Ms. Benton had reported him too. She was the manager who fired him from the custodial staff at the Packard Hills Shopping Center. Carlos exploded when she gave him the news. Didn’t that bitch see what she was doing to him? He pushed her desk over, pulled the phone cord between his hands, and advanced on her. Scared her shitless. But after she cried and begged him to leave her alone, he ran out of the office. She wasn’t worth the trouble.
Carlos glanced around the parking lot. He didn’t think he would come back here. One visit had accomplished all he set out to do. He wanted to scare the lie detector guy, make him hurt, and keep him looking over his shoulder for a few days. But now Carlos wanted more. This guy had screwed him over, and he should pay. How? Carlos wrestled with that one for a while, but at about two in the morning he decided Ken Parker should die.
He played with his long razor, flipping it open and closed. He would take one clean swipe at Parker’s throat, and if he was lucky, his victim wouldn’t make a sound.
Carlos had never killed a man before, but there was a tightness in his chest, a burning, and it would go away only when this guy was dead. He had to make it stop.
Afterward, he would detour to his father’s house, where he’d pick up his son. He knew it was risky, since his wife would report him. Maybe he would tie her up to buy himself some time. Or maybe he would waste her too. She deserved it for believing that lie detector over his word.
He sat still as a young couple stepped outside one of the buildings. The girl was going home, and they stood next to her car, kissing and tonguing each other for a while. Carlos didn’t have a watch, but he figured it must be almost three A . M . Maybe Parker was staying with a girlfriend that night.
Carlos considered giving it up, until he heard the distinctive roar of an MG as it turned into the lot. It was him!Carlos watched as the examiner pulled into his space and killed the engine. But the couple was still out there. He couldn’t risk it. Not yet.
Parker bounded quickly up his stairs, climbing toward his apartment.
Apartment 332, Carlos
That
was a pile-up!” He turned toward the others. “Some guy had a fender-bender, minor injuries, and the ambulance was taking him to the emergency room. But then it jumps the median on Holcomb Bridge Road, and
wham
!” He clapped his hands for emphasis. “It hits the pole of a Burger King sign. Everybody’s okay except the patient—he gets a broken back!”
Laszlo shook his head. “By the time he’s through with the ambulance company, he’ll be a millionaire.”
“What good is it if he can’t move?” Freddy asked.
“Please,” Hound Dog persisted, trying to get back to the original subject. “I know I’ve seen this woman somewhere before. None of you have shot her?”
“Even if it were fifty million dollars, it wouldn’t be worth it to you?” Laszlo asked.
“To be paralyzed for the rest of my life?” Freddy grimaced.
“Guys…” Hound Dog implored.
“Okay. What if it were just the waist down?”
“That’s the best part!”
It was no use. Hound Dog took the photo back, picked up her tray, and moved to another room.
“Idiots,” she muttered.
—
Carlos Valez slumped against a brick wall facing the Inman Park apartment complex. He’d been there only a few days before, the night he kicked the shit out of that lie detector guy. Now he was back, sitting next to the Dumpster, smoking a joint he had found in his buddy Jesus’s bathroom. He had been hiding out with Jesus since being thrown out of his father’s house.
It had been a nasty scene between him and his father. When the lie detector test came back and he lost his job, his father yelled and slapped him around. Alicia and the baby can stay, the old man said, but you’re outta here.
Carlos got him back. He beat the hell out of him.
Stupid old man reported him to the police.
Maybe Ms. Benton had reported him too. She was the manager who fired him from the custodial staff at the Packard Hills Shopping Center. Carlos exploded when she gave him the news. Didn’t that bitch see what she was doing to him? He pushed her desk over, pulled the phone cord between his hands, and advanced on her. Scared her shitless. But after she cried and begged him to leave her alone, he ran out of the office. She wasn’t worth the trouble.
Carlos glanced around the parking lot. He didn’t think he would come back here. One visit had accomplished all he set out to do. He wanted to scare the lie detector guy, make him hurt, and keep him looking over his shoulder for a few days. But now Carlos wanted more. This guy had screwed him over, and he should pay. How? Carlos wrestled with that one for a while, but at about two in the morning he decided Ken Parker should die.
He played with his long razor, flipping it open and closed. He would take one clean swipe at Parker’s throat, and if he was lucky, his victim wouldn’t make a sound.
Carlos had never killed a man before, but there was a tightness in his chest, a burning, and it would go away only when this guy was dead. He had to make it stop.
Afterward, he would detour to his father’s house, where he’d pick up his son. He knew it was risky, since his wife would report him. Maybe he would tie her up to buy himself some time. Or maybe he would waste her too. She deserved it for believing that lie detector over his word.
He sat still as a young couple stepped outside one of the buildings. The girl was going home, and they stood next to her car, kissing and tonguing each other for a while. Carlos didn’t have a watch, but he figured it must be almost three A . M . Maybe Parker was staying with a girlfriend that night.
Carlos considered giving it up, until he heard the distinctive roar of an MG as it turned into the lot. It was him!Carlos watched as the examiner pulled into his space and killed the engine. But the couple was still out there. He couldn’t risk it. Not yet.
Parker bounded quickly up his stairs, climbing toward his apartment.
Apartment 332, Carlos
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