Read Online The Murderer's Daughter by Jonathan Kellerman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jonathan Kellerman
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arm’s reach.
Dodie said, “Fuckin’ KFC, what’s with all the bones.”
Ardis said, “Chicken has bones, stupid. If it didn’t, it would be…boneless chicken.” Throwing his head back, he laughed and took a swallow from the bottle.
Dodie stopped cutting. “You just call me stupid?”
No answer from Ardis.
“I asked you a question. You call me stupid?”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever?”
“Hey,” said Ardis, taking another drink. “Stupid is like stupid does.”
“Fuck that,” said Dodie. “Fuck
you—
I gotta take
that
from a
retard
?”
“Who you callin’ a retard?”
No answer from Dodie.
Ardis repeated the question.
Dodie snickered. “If the retard shoe fits.”
Both of them talking in that loose, hard-to-understand way they always did when they drank too much or smoked too much weed or took pills. Which was almost always when they emerged from the sleeping space.
Ardis said, “What fits is my dick up your fat ass.”
Silence.
Dodie said, “What’d you just shit outta your pie-hole? Retard.”
Ardis repeated the insult. Stood up and advanced toward the kitchenette.
Dodie said, “You know, you just need to just leave. And never come back. Retard.”
“Fuck that. This is my home.”
“Like hell it is,” said Dodie and now she was screaming. “I pay, you don’t do shit. Your home is someplace they stick useless retards!”
“You
pay
?” Ardis bellowed. “Your
welfare
pays, bitch. You’re useless, sitting around, that ass a’ yours getting bigger and bigger, soon you’re not gonna fit through the fuckin’ door.”
Dodie turned from the chicken and faced him.
Ardis said, “What?”
“You ain’t worth the time—you just go.”
“I go when I say I go, I stay when I say I stay.” Ardis gave a crooked smile. “My dick goes up your ass when I say it’s the time for fun.”
He laughed.
Dodie had turned red as ketchup.
“Look at you.” Ardis laughed. “You like a…tomato. You all ugly, you been whupped with the biggest fuckin’ ugly stick in the biggest fuckin’ planet.”
“The planet is earth!” screamed Dodie. “We can’t live on another one ’cause there’s no air. Retard. You don’t know shit about science or anything because you’re stupid, know what they call you, even people you think like you? Dead Brain! Dead Brain Retard!”
“Bullshit!”
“Bull
-no
shit!”
Quick as a snakebite, Ardis lunged toward Dodie, shooting out a shaky hand that still managed to connect with her nose. Blood spurted. Dodie’s nose looked different than ever before. Flat. Crushed.
Breathing must’ve hurt because she began crying, tried to stanch the blood with KFC napkins, white turning to red real fast.
Ardis laughed and hit her again, this time with the usual open hand, like he didn’t even care. But hard, slapping the side of her head so hard that it flipped to the side and sprayed blood from her ruined nose.
This is different, thought Grace.
Then something really different happened. Dodie turned and put her weight into it and hit Ardis back. A real fast upward swoop.
Tracing the space beneath his chin.
Weird place to hit someone. Then Grace saw it.
A thin red line forming, Ardis’s eyes opening in wonder as the line started seeping and Ardis stumbled back causing the line to widen into a gaping slash.
A second mouth, grinning across his neck.
Now Ardis’s blood was coming out a lot faster than the blood from Dodie’s nose.
He staggered, tried to talk. Nothing came out. One hand flew toward his throat but dropped before arriving. Weakly, he waved a fist at Dodie.
Then he collapsed. Blood pooled beneath him.
Dodie stared at him. Shifted her eyes to the knife in her hand. Little tan specks and bits—breading from the chicken pieces—clung to the blade, turning into red lumps as they mixed with blood.
Dodie looked down at Ardis. Screamed his name and went over to him and shook him.
He didn’t move. Flat on his back, eyes sightless, mouth
Dodie said, “Fuckin’ KFC, what’s with all the bones.”
Ardis said, “Chicken has bones, stupid. If it didn’t, it would be…boneless chicken.” Throwing his head back, he laughed and took a swallow from the bottle.
Dodie stopped cutting. “You just call me stupid?”
No answer from Ardis.
“I asked you a question. You call me stupid?”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever?”
“Hey,” said Ardis, taking another drink. “Stupid is like stupid does.”
“Fuck that,” said Dodie. “Fuck
you—
I gotta take
that
from a
retard
?”
“Who you callin’ a retard?”
No answer from Dodie.
Ardis repeated the question.
Dodie snickered. “If the retard shoe fits.”
Both of them talking in that loose, hard-to-understand way they always did when they drank too much or smoked too much weed or took pills. Which was almost always when they emerged from the sleeping space.
Ardis said, “What fits is my dick up your fat ass.”
Silence.
Dodie said, “What’d you just shit outta your pie-hole? Retard.”
Ardis repeated the insult. Stood up and advanced toward the kitchenette.
Dodie said, “You know, you just need to just leave. And never come back. Retard.”
“Fuck that. This is my home.”
“Like hell it is,” said Dodie and now she was screaming. “I pay, you don’t do shit. Your home is someplace they stick useless retards!”
“You
pay
?” Ardis bellowed. “Your
welfare
pays, bitch. You’re useless, sitting around, that ass a’ yours getting bigger and bigger, soon you’re not gonna fit through the fuckin’ door.”
Dodie turned from the chicken and faced him.
Ardis said, “What?”
“You ain’t worth the time—you just go.”
“I go when I say I go, I stay when I say I stay.” Ardis gave a crooked smile. “My dick goes up your ass when I say it’s the time for fun.”
He laughed.
Dodie had turned red as ketchup.
“Look at you.” Ardis laughed. “You like a…tomato. You all ugly, you been whupped with the biggest fuckin’ ugly stick in the biggest fuckin’ planet.”
“The planet is earth!” screamed Dodie. “We can’t live on another one ’cause there’s no air. Retard. You don’t know shit about science or anything because you’re stupid, know what they call you, even people you think like you? Dead Brain! Dead Brain Retard!”
“Bullshit!”
“Bull
-no
shit!”
Quick as a snakebite, Ardis lunged toward Dodie, shooting out a shaky hand that still managed to connect with her nose. Blood spurted. Dodie’s nose looked different than ever before. Flat. Crushed.
Breathing must’ve hurt because she began crying, tried to stanch the blood with KFC napkins, white turning to red real fast.
Ardis laughed and hit her again, this time with the usual open hand, like he didn’t even care. But hard, slapping the side of her head so hard that it flipped to the side and sprayed blood from her ruined nose.
This is different, thought Grace.
Then something really different happened. Dodie turned and put her weight into it and hit Ardis back. A real fast upward swoop.
Tracing the space beneath his chin.
Weird place to hit someone. Then Grace saw it.
A thin red line forming, Ardis’s eyes opening in wonder as the line started seeping and Ardis stumbled back causing the line to widen into a gaping slash.
A second mouth, grinning across his neck.
Now Ardis’s blood was coming out a lot faster than the blood from Dodie’s nose.
He staggered, tried to talk. Nothing came out. One hand flew toward his throat but dropped before arriving. Weakly, he waved a fist at Dodie.
Then he collapsed. Blood pooled beneath him.
Dodie stared at him. Shifted her eyes to the knife in her hand. Little tan specks and bits—breading from the chicken pieces—clung to the blade, turning into red lumps as they mixed with blood.
Dodie looked down at Ardis. Screamed his name and went over to him and shook him.
He didn’t move. Flat on his back, eyes sightless, mouth
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