Read Online Bite Me (Devlin Haskell 3) by Mike Faricy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mike Faricy
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shower head. It pretty much did the trick. The next morning I actually used soap in the shower, although not on my face just to stay on the safe side.
I found a skin cream some long forgotten date must have left behind and smeared that on my face, it stung a little but seemed to help. My skin was still red and puffy around the eyes, but the swelling on my cheeks had gone down, more or less.
I got dressed and decided I could be bored at the office just as well as at home. My car wasn’t in the driveway. It dawned on me that St. Paul’s finest had given me a ride home. Instead, a silver Audi was parked on the street in front of my house Kiki leaned against the door, smiling, looking gorgeous and sipping from a Starbucks cup.
“Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”
“Hi, Kiki. Here to comfort the afflicted?”
“Hunh? What happened to your face, you look all blotchy and well, shitty?”
“Long story.”
“Tell me, here, I brought you a coffee. I wasn’t sure how you like it so I added cream and sugar.”
“I usually take it black.”
“Then you can go inside and make some, I guess.”
“Cream and sugar will be fine.”
“I brought you some croissants, too. So tell me what happened.”
I gave her a sanitized version. I didn’t mention the stupid letter to her brother and that fat ass Thompson Barkwell. I stuck to the white lie about forgetting to enclose my check in a bill payment. I skipped over the part about drinking a couple of beers beforehand in The Spot. I sort of neglected to mention the potential assault on a Federal employee charge or Timmy’s disorderly conduct citation. Then closed with, “So, one of my pals at the police department warned me that I was likely to see a bill from the city because the paramedics had to be called. I mean, can you believe it?”
“Wow, that seems so unfair,” she sounded genuine.
“Yeah, you’re telling me. I mean, it’s like suddenly I’m the criminal here.”
Kiki sipped her coffee. After a long moment I said, “Hey, could I hit you up for a lift down to my office. One of the cops was nice enough to give me a lift home yesterday, said it was the least he could do, you know, under the circumstances.”
“Yeah, sure, another croissant? Or anything else you want?”
I didn’t touch that last line. “No, thanks, but I’ve got some meetings and I like to be prepared, really appreciate the coffee and the ride.”
“You and your meetings, we’ll have to cure you of that. Come on , hop in.”
I gave her directions to my office. Mercifully , she didn’t mention a thing about KRAZ until we had pulled up in front of the pet shop on the first floor of my building.
“Hey, about that KRAZ,” she said.
“Not to worry, Barkwell gave me a check, said he’d get the rest to me in a couple of days, after the board meeting or something.”
“Yeah, whatever. No I meant, you know, the KRAZ you sort of left on my bedroom wall. Remember, the red spray paint?”
“Oh yeah, that.”
“You had some guy or something, no rush, but you know I’d like to get it taken care of, doesn’t really go with the rest of the décor in there.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a call into him, I’ll check as soon as I’m in the office, see if he got back to me.”
“Do that, thanks, you’ll let me know?”
“I will.”
S he drove off before I had a chance to swallow my mouthful of croissant and thank her.
I thought about painting the wall myself, I mean, how hard could it be? Then remembered the difficulties I’d encountered at an ex-wife’s, splattering paint on some heirloom antique I’d never liked in the first place. I knew the guy to call.
Gary Hobson was one of those guys who never held a job and knew how to do everything. There was a lot of family money from somewhere, though I’d never learned where. He could fix the brakes on your car, put a new roof on your garage, wire a light, paint a room, do a thousand different things. I don’t think I’d seen
I found a skin cream some long forgotten date must have left behind and smeared that on my face, it stung a little but seemed to help. My skin was still red and puffy around the eyes, but the swelling on my cheeks had gone down, more or less.
I got dressed and decided I could be bored at the office just as well as at home. My car wasn’t in the driveway. It dawned on me that St. Paul’s finest had given me a ride home. Instead, a silver Audi was parked on the street in front of my house Kiki leaned against the door, smiling, looking gorgeous and sipping from a Starbucks cup.
“Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”
“Hi, Kiki. Here to comfort the afflicted?”
“Hunh? What happened to your face, you look all blotchy and well, shitty?”
“Long story.”
“Tell me, here, I brought you a coffee. I wasn’t sure how you like it so I added cream and sugar.”
“I usually take it black.”
“Then you can go inside and make some, I guess.”
“Cream and sugar will be fine.”
“I brought you some croissants, too. So tell me what happened.”
I gave her a sanitized version. I didn’t mention the stupid letter to her brother and that fat ass Thompson Barkwell. I stuck to the white lie about forgetting to enclose my check in a bill payment. I skipped over the part about drinking a couple of beers beforehand in The Spot. I sort of neglected to mention the potential assault on a Federal employee charge or Timmy’s disorderly conduct citation. Then closed with, “So, one of my pals at the police department warned me that I was likely to see a bill from the city because the paramedics had to be called. I mean, can you believe it?”
“Wow, that seems so unfair,” she sounded genuine.
“Yeah, you’re telling me. I mean, it’s like suddenly I’m the criminal here.”
Kiki sipped her coffee. After a long moment I said, “Hey, could I hit you up for a lift down to my office. One of the cops was nice enough to give me a lift home yesterday, said it was the least he could do, you know, under the circumstances.”
“Yeah, sure, another croissant? Or anything else you want?”
I didn’t touch that last line. “No, thanks, but I’ve got some meetings and I like to be prepared, really appreciate the coffee and the ride.”
“You and your meetings, we’ll have to cure you of that. Come on , hop in.”
I gave her directions to my office. Mercifully , she didn’t mention a thing about KRAZ until we had pulled up in front of the pet shop on the first floor of my building.
“Hey, about that KRAZ,” she said.
“Not to worry, Barkwell gave me a check, said he’d get the rest to me in a couple of days, after the board meeting or something.”
“Yeah, whatever. No I meant, you know, the KRAZ you sort of left on my bedroom wall. Remember, the red spray paint?”
“Oh yeah, that.”
“You had some guy or something, no rush, but you know I’d like to get it taken care of, doesn’t really go with the rest of the décor in there.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a call into him, I’ll check as soon as I’m in the office, see if he got back to me.”
“Do that, thanks, you’ll let me know?”
“I will.”
S he drove off before I had a chance to swallow my mouthful of croissant and thank her.
I thought about painting the wall myself, I mean, how hard could it be? Then remembered the difficulties I’d encountered at an ex-wife’s, splattering paint on some heirloom antique I’d never liked in the first place. I knew the guy to call.
Gary Hobson was one of those guys who never held a job and knew how to do everything. There was a lot of family money from somewhere, though I’d never learned where. He could fix the brakes on your car, put a new roof on your garage, wire a light, paint a room, do a thousand different things. I don’t think I’d seen
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