Sticky Fingers 2 by JT Lawrence EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:JT Lawrence
- Language: English
- Genre: Horror Short Stories
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
PANAMA WINGS
“You think he’s guilty?” Devil asks.
Robin Susman pulls the key out of the ignition and wrenches the door
handle of her bashed-up Honda.
“Yes.” She climbs out. “I’m just not sure what of.”
They lope to the gate in the shade of the palms, buzz the intercom, and after
three beats the metal lock clicks open. Beaulac waits at the front door,
dishevelled and scratching his three-day-long stubble.
De Villiers holds up his detective badge, and Beaulac squints into the light,
as if he’s just come from a dark room.
“I know who you are,” he waves away the ID. “They call you Devil.”
“Term of endearment,” says De Villiers.
“Well,” says Beaulac, rubbing the front of his stained T-shirt. “You’d better
come in.”
The interior of the Beaulacs’ expensive security complex home is as knotty
as his appearence. Dirty noodle bowls and crushed beer cans litter the
otherwise luxurious-looking carpet. Susman hides her annoyance at the
banality of it all. No matter how much money they have, she thinks, they
always fall apart in the same way. Noodle bowls and beer tins. Oil-stained
pizza boxes and empty whisky bottles. She’d seen this picture a thousand
times.
“Five days,” says Beaulac.
Susman steps closer to the man, her nostrils twitch. There’s this picture, and
then there are the ones on the other side of the equation: the reason for the
distress. The other half. The better half. In this case, she’s sure: the worseoff half.
“The last time you saw your wife?”
Beaulac blinks his bleary eyes, clears his throat. “Tuesday, nine a.m.”
“Tuesday the 14th of July. And you only reported her missing last night?”
“I didn’t realise she was missing.”
Little pops go off in Robin’s head. Her fingers tingle. She has the urge to
wreck the house even more. She needs to keep her anger under control, be
professional. She sends her fury into her jaws and grits her teeth.
“You didn’t realise she was missing?” Devil’s using his pen to lift the edge
of a receipt on the flecked black marble of the kitchen island. CURRY
DEN, it says. R228.
“I just thought…” He gazes at the floor, but doesn’t finish his sentence.
“You thought she left you,” says Susman. He looks up at her. “You didn’t
want to phone the police about your wife leaving you.”
“Yes.”
“And she travels a lot, you know, for the agency. She could have just
forgotten to tell me.”
“But then you couldn’t get hold of her. Her parents haven’t heard from her.
Her best friend. She hasn’t used any of her bank cards.”
“And she didn’t take anything with her,” Beaulac says, scrubbing his greasy
black hair with his knuckles. “She didn’t pack a bag. Her passport is still
here.”
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