Cash Out by Greg Bardsley Read Free Book Online

I’ll be visiting with my big mug of creamy coffee, and at some point, silly ol’ me will need to use the lavatory. And silly ol’ me—well, I will have chowed down on lots of carnitas and beans, and I’ll just have to visit your upper deck.”
    â€œUpper deck?”
    â€œYou see, Mr. Danny.” Closes his eyes, sticks his chin into the air. “I like to teach antisocials a lesson. So I visit their upper decks.”
    Freaking loony tunes.
    â€œYou see . . .” He returns to his fingernails. “I just gently remove the lid to the upper water basin of the toilee, and I pull my sweats down and I just work it until my little rump is practically falling into your exposed water basin, my feet planted firmly on the toilee-seat lid, my hands reaching out for stabilization, and then—oh, Mr. Danny, the exquisite exaltation—I release a nasty little guy into your upper deck . . .”
    He studies my face, waiting for a reaction.
    â€œ. . . where it will do one of two things.”
    I try not to grin.
    â€œIt will either wreak immediate havoc on your flushing system, or it will simply reside unnoticed for months on end.”
    â€œDude, it was a party for six-year-olds.”
    â€œI don’t care.” Folds his arms, looks away. “I like balloons and party favors.”
    I’m laughing now. “Calhoun, c’mon.”
    â€œBefore I tell you what I saw, I want a promise from Mr. Danny Wonderful.”
    â€œOkay, okay.”
    He folds his arms. “No more antisocial behavior.”
    â€œOkay, okay.”
    â€œYou promise?”
    â€œYes, yes. I promise.”
    He sits back and closes his eyes again. “Okay, then.” He pauses as he fails to fully suppress a burp. “Now I can tell you about the beefy little bald gentleman I saw prowling around your house this morning . . .”
    He examines my stoic reaction.
    â€œ. . . when your wife and children frolicked inside.”
    A jolt of pain goes straight to my crotch.
    I turn left onto Brittain.
    Kate again. “Where are you?”
    â€œI’m at Lunardi’s. I’m just gonna get one of those chickens.”
    I’m nearly breathless. “I’m going to get Stacey and the boys.”
    â€œWhat? . . . Dan, I just called and told her to—”
    â€œI don’t care.”
    â€œIs everything okay?”
    â€œDon’t think so.”
    I stop at an intersection, and Calhoun whizzes past me on his little moped scooter, his body dripping over the seat, his Bozo hair dancing in the wind.
    What the . . .
    â€œWhat’s going on, honey?”
    I pull a left onto Cedar and slow down, approaching the park. Calhoun motors past the park, pulls a right, out of sight.
    â€œI talked to Calhoun.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œAnd he saw a guy.”
    â€œWhat?”
    I’m scanning the park, the sidewalks.
    â€œDan, how many pills have you taken?”
    I look for familiar faces. My breathing is still shallow. “Calhoun saw a guy outside our house.”
    â€œWhat? Who?”
    I peer over to the fire-truck play structure. No one.
    â€œSounded like the guy who kneed me over at Safeway.”
    Kate drops the phone.
    â€œKate?”
    When she comes back, her voice is high. “Danny, what’s going on?”
    â€œOkay, I’m here.”
    I look toward the giant sandbox and see Stacey standing with the boys—and a guy. A short and beefy bald guy—playing with Ben, squatting beside him, showing him how to dump sand out of a giant Tonka truck, a big smile on his face. I hit the brakes, lower my head, and squint for a better look.
    â€œDan?”
    That’s him. The Safeway guy. “I gotta go.”
    I’m at least fifty yards away, and his blazer is gone, but I know it’s him. The compact little body. The giant shoulders and the calm, confident look on his face, that face with the