He stared at her belly button, distended, like the beginning of a balloon. Had to be another flaw somewhere, Eric thought before staring at her long legs wrapped tightly in a pair of white Capri pants. No shoes.
“Are you coming in, or what?” she asked.
He bolted up the stairs and into the house. The Riley’s living room was furnished with a black three-piece sectional couch and matching loveseat and ottoman, all covered in plastic. On a flat-screen television Chris Hansen stepped out from behind a curtain and startled a man removing liquor and condoms from a paper sack.
Cigar smoke and raspberry air freshener lingered in the air. On the wall behind the couch was a huge velvet picture of a black panther emerging out of tall grass.
“What does your daddy do?” Eric asked. “Work at the zoo?”
“No. He’s the assistant warden over at Tucker.”
“Really? I wish you’d told me before.” He sat down in the loveseat.
“Would it have made a difference?”
Eric smiled at her. “No, it wouldna’ve. Remember what I told you?”
“Heavy on the slob?”
“Yes, and what else?” She shrugged. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
She started toward him, stopped suddenly, her eyes going everywhere except in the same direction, and they both listened intently to a car pulling into the driveway. Seconds later a car door slammed.
“Daddy!” she whispered, looking terrified. “Run!”
Eric jumped up, head jerking right to left. “I’m going out the back door!”
“Uh-uh! Malcolm is back there.” She pointed toward the couch. “Hide behind there.”
“Who is Malcolm?”
“Daddy’s pit bull. Hurry!”
The front door opened just as Eric was ducking into the small space where the couch catty-cornered against the wall.
“Hi, Daddy,” he heard Linda say. “What you doing home this early?”
“I live here,” a man said. “You forgot? I live here, pay the bills here. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, Daddy.”
“You acting strange. When the last time you talked to the bolus?”
“You told me not to talk to him anymore, Daddy. You want me to fix you something to eat? I’ll make you a sandwich and bring it to your room.”
Eric didn’t hear the man respond.
“Daddy, don’t you want to go lie down, get off your feet. I know you’re tired.”
“You go lie down!” the man said. Eric heard and felt someone sitting on the couch. “I’m fine right here.”
The man was close, an arm’s length away. Eric started sweating, profusely.
The man started sniffing. “What’s that smell?”
“What smell? I don’t smell nothing.”
“Smells like Brute. Who’s been here?”
“Nobody, Daddy. Nobody’s been here.”
Sweat dripped into Eric’s eyes, but he didn’t dare move a muscle.
“I’m going to say this one last time,” the man said. “You go near that man again, I’ll beat the black off you, you hear me? I wish he would come here. I wish he would! It’ll be the last place he go.”
“I know, Daddy, I know.”
“I might as well be a damn garbage man! Work with trash all day, then come home and deal with it.” He mumbled expletives. “What you say his name was?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“You a damn lie! You said his name was Eric. You hop in bed with a man and you don’t know his name?”
“I just know him as Eric, Daddy.” She sounded on the verge of crying.
“Yeah, I bet.” Silence, then vehemently: “Get outta my face! Get outta my damn face! You make me sick!”
I’m dead, Eric thought.
Coming here had seemed a good idea, initially. After a night of sleeping inside the Laundromat, he figured he could get a hot shower and a hot meal while the troll’s parents were at work. He also figured he could punish a poonanny.
But now in this man’s house, crouched behind his couch, all he stood to get was a well-whooped ass.
A cell phone rang.
“Hello,” the man said. “I was just thinking about you… Yeah, we still have a deal… No, not yet… No… She claims she doesn’t know his full name. When I get it, I’ll get his address… Not a problem… I have the money now… Yes, half upfront, half later. Yes… Yes… Yes, most definitely… I don’t want to flush the wrong bolus, know what I mean?” The man laughed and said good-bye. “Linda!” he shouted.
A moment later: “Yes, Daddy?”
“Are you sure you told me all you know about whatsmajigga? I drive you around you should remember where his house is.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What’s his last name?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy, I don’t know.”
Eric heard a grunt and what sounded like a shoe striking a wall.
“Get your lying ass outta here!” the man shouted.
All the man needed was his last name…
If he survived this he would change: stop chasing women, stop looking at pornography. All those magazines under the mattress would have to go.
Shirley, he vowed, would be the recipient of his first act of atonement. He would beg her forgiveness. No matter if she kicked his ass; he deserved it. The man interrupted his thoughts by throwing an arm on the headrest.
Eric stared at the large, stubby, dark-skinned fingers grasping the remote control. Those were the fingers of a very strong man.
Eric couldn’t take his eyes off those fingers, and then, to his horror, the remote control slipped from those large, stubby, dark-skinned, life-threatening fingers and landed on his shoulder. The man cursed and then Eric saw ten large, dark-skinned, stubby, life-threatening, windpipe-crushing fingers grab hold of the headrest.
In seconds, the man’s face would appear…
Chapter 29
A convoy of log trucks was parked along the street, diesel engines running, several drivers asleep on their steering wheel. Ruth Ann walked along the sidewalk, a chain-link fence to her right, beyond it the SuperWood paper mill. Dirt-gray smoke plumed from two concrete stacks, dispersing an odor of Pine-Sol and manure.
At a distance inside the plant, a Tigercat track loader grabbed logs on a truck and placed them on a conveyor belt that ran up and disappeared into a large white building. An aluminum chute stretched out the opposite side of the building and spewed a mountain of sawdust.
The blisters on her feet hurt like hell and the sun, though starting its descent, braised her exposed skin. T-
