Billy Summers by Stephen King Read Free Book Online

SECURITY on it in gold thread. A cheap hire. More evidence that Hoff is in trouble. Big trouble, if he’s solely on the hook for this building.
    Hoff turns on his charm turbocharger, approaching the old guy with a smile and outstretched hand. “How’s it going, Irv? All okay?”
    â€œFine, Mr. Hoff.”
    â€œWife tip-top?”
    â€œThe arthritis bothers her some, but otherwise she’s fine.”
    â€œThis is George Russo, you met him last week, and this is David Lockridge. He’s going to be our resident author.”
    â€œPleased to meet you, Mr. Lockridge,” Dean says. A smile lightsup his face and makes him look younger. Not much, but a little. “Hope you’ll find some good words here.”
    Billy thinks that’s a nice thing to say, maybe even the best thing. “I hope so, too.”
    â€œMind me asking what your book is about?”
    Billy puts a finger to his lips. “Top secret.”
    â€œOkay, I hear you. That’s a nice little suite on five. I think you’ll like it. I have to take your picture for your building ID, if that’s okay?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œGot a DL?”
    Billy hands over the David Lockridge driver’s license. Dean uses a cell phone with GERARD TOWER Dymo’d on the back to photograph first his license and then Billy himself. Now there’s a picture of him on this building’s computer servers, retrievable by anyone with authorization or hacking skills. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, this is his last job, but he still doesn’t like it. It feels all wrong.
    â€œI’ll have the card for you when you leave. You need to use it if there’s nobody here at the stand. Just put it on this reader gadget. We like to know who’s in the building. I’ll be here most of the time, or Logan when I’m off, and when we are, we’ll sign you in.”
    â€œGot it.”
    â€œYou can also use your card for the parking garage on Main. It’s good for four months. Your, uh, agent paid for that. It’ll open the barrier as soon as I put you in the computer. Parking on the street when court’s in session, forget it.” Which explains the Uber. “There’s no assigned space in the garage, but most days you’ll find a spot on the first or second level. We’re not overcrowded just now.” He gives Ken Hoff an apologetic look, then returns his attention to the new tenant. “Anything I can do for you, just tap one-one on your office phone. Landline’s installed. Your agent there took care of that, too.”
    â€œMr. Dean has been very helpful,” Giorgio says.
    â€œIt’s his job!” Hoff exclaims cheerfully. “Isn’t it, Irv?”
    â€œAbsolutely right.”
    â€œYou say hi to your wife, tell her I hope she feels better. Those copper bracelets are supposed to help. The ones they advertise on TV?”
    â€œMight give them a try,” Dean says, but he looks dubious, and good for him.
    When they pass the security stand, Billy sees that Mr. Polk Security has a copy of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue in his lap. There’s a bodacious babe on the cover, and Billy makes a mental note to pick one up. The dumb self likes sports, and he likes babes.
    They take the elevator up to five and step out in a deserted corridor. “There’s an accounting office down there,” Hoff says, pointing. “Two connecting suites. Also some lawyers. There’s a dentist on this side. I think. Unless he moved out. I guess he did, because the plaque on the door is gone. I’ll have to ask the rental agent. Rest of the floor is unoccupied.”
    Oh, this guy is in real trouble, Billy thinks again. He risks a glance at Giorgio, but Giorgio— George —is gazing at the door behind which there is now no dentist. As if there was something there to see.
    Near the end of the hall, Hoff reaches into his suitcoat pocket and