Read Online The Carrier by Preston Lang - Free Book Online Page B

to a small one-bedroom apartment. There were afghans on
a bright red couch and bad fake antique lamps on plastic tables. It
wasn’t her apartment. Maybe it was a sublet—there was no way this
junk belonged to Inez.
    “ How long you been here?”
Duane asked.
    “ A while.”
    “ You picked out all the
furniture yourself?”
    “ Stop saying things,” she
said and took off her jacket. Then she took off her shoes and
socks, her shirt, and her jeans. She wasn’t a user, not even just
for fun on a Saturday night. That was clear to see. Her skin was
smooth, unmarked, and she smelled a little like an apple. They made
love quickly, quietly, but with an edge of pain. Inez scratched up
Duane’s back as if that were the point; then he pinned her arms
down. She broke free and scratched him up one more time.
    He was already looking forward to
trying again, but he also needed to figure out exactly what was
going on. He had plenty of the handsome man’s vanity, but he also
realized that it was possible for a woman to sleep with him for
reasons other than her uncontrollable lust.
    “ How come you don’t have
tattoos?” she asked.
    “ Why would I want a
tattoo?”
    “ Afraid of a
needle?”
    “ I’m not afraid of a
needle.”
    “ You don’t like
Art?”
    “ Not even a
little.”
    “ See, I need a man who’s
more cultured.”
    “ Like Tony?”
    “ Why you even want to say
his name? I find that sinister.”
    Tony had tattoos on his arms and neck,
and they were starting to fade. Duane thought tattoos were stupid.
You see some old guy who got a fire-breathing dragon the day before
he dropped onto the Mekong Delta, and now it looked like a bad
magic marker job. Top used to have a small flare of ink—a
blade—that popped from under his collar. He’d had it
removed.
    Inez walked across the room. She
glanced out the window then continued to the sink where she poured
herself a glass of water.
    “ I see his car,” she
said
    “ Who?”
    “ Who you think?”
    “ You see him ?”
    “ No, just his car, parked in
front of the building. He’s probably right by the front door.
Unless someone let him in already.”
    It was impossible to see the front
door from the window without sticking your head all the way out.
Duane had no problem leaving through windows, but that looked
impossible in this case.
    “ Why is he doing this?” he
asked.
    “ I don’t know. He hates you
and he thinks I’m his girl. That shit’s been going on since, like,
Socrates.”
    “ He doesn’t have a key to
the place, does he?”
    “ You afraid of
him?”
    “ Like I’d be afraid of a
certain kind of cunning animal.”
    “ Like what kind of
animal?”
    “ One of those mean,
mid-sized ones with teeth? I don’t know—a badger or a wolverine.
It’s better if you know where it is and what it might be
thinking.”
    “ Okay so what do we
do?”
    Duane started to put on his
clothes.
    “ You’re a smart girl. Any
ideas?” he asked.
    “ We can order a
pizza.”
    “ Okay?”
    “ What does he do—we order a
pizza?”
    “ Can we order a pizza this time of night?”
    “ Angelo’s,” she said,
gesturing to a pile of menus on the table. “So what does he do if a
pizza comes to the door?”
    “ If he thought it was coming
to us—”
    “ And he will. We’re the only
ones still up.”
    “ Then he takes it and tries
to deliver it to us. And he probably thinks he’s the smartest
motherfucker in all of Newburgh. What do you think he does to the
pizza boy?”
    “ You care?”
    “ It might
matter.”
    “ If he’s smart, he gives him
fifty dollars. If he’s stupid he shoots the kid in the
head.”
    “ Tony can be a whole lot of
stupid.”
    “ Either way,” Inez shrugged.
“When he gets the pizza, then he comes up here. I just leave the
door open and call from the bathroom— put
it on the table.”
    “ No, better to get him on
the way up. The stairs. Is there a good place to hide on the
stairs?”
    “ I wouldn’t know. I don’t
hide in