Chasing The Dragon by Nicholas Kaufmann Read Free Book Online Page A

broom back and forth noncommittally in dungarees and a Brooks & Dunn t-shirt that had long sweat stains under the armpits. He leaned the broom against the wall and walked toward her. The rubber soles of his sneakers squeaked annoyingly with each step.
    “Morning,” she said. She hoped that whatever he wanted, the conversation would be quick. She didn’t have time for this.
    “Roy Dalton’s the name,” he said when he reached her. He sounded out of breath and something rattled in the back of his throat. “Owner and operator of this fine establishment.” His giant, meaty hand engulfed hers as he shook it. His palm was sweaty and callused. “Just wanted to make sure everything’s all right with your room. My boy, Wilbur, he’s been working the office for a while now, but he’s still young; he forgets things.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “He doesn’t have that attention to detail you need in the hospitality industry.”
    “Everything’s fine, thanks.” She opened the car door.
    “Good, good,” Roy Dalton said. He cleared his throat again. It was obvious he had more to say. Georgia waited by the open car door. She wished she could just ignore him, get in and take off, but it wasn’t a good idea. That kind of rudeness would be remembered. It was better, she knew, to be pleasant and forgettable. “We don’t get many visitors in Buckshot Hill, especially single gals like yourself,” he continued. “Anyways, with the missus away visiting friends up in Santa Fe, I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands, so if you need anything, anything at all, you just let ol’ Roy know, okay? I aim to please.” He smiled, and she saw several of his upper teeth were gone on one side of his mouth, the bottom teeth mashing up against the empty gums.
    The missing teeth made her think uncomfortably of entropy. She forced a quick, thin smile, lowered herself into the driver’s seat and closed the door. Roy Dalton leaned into the open window on his elbow. A fat droplet of sweat rolled down his arm. She could sense him trying to peek down the neck of her t-shirt. “Hold up a moment,” he said.
    Georgia sighed, her key halfway to the ignition. Now what?
    He wiped his forehead. “You got a look about you, miss, if you don’t mind me saying. One I’ve seen enough to recognize by now. Bags under the eyes, jitters. You looking to score?”
    Shit.
    Rattled, Georgia feigned righteous indignation. “Excuse me?”
    Pathetic. Everything about her voice sounded like a lie.
    “It’s all right if you are. I ain’t judging. I’m just saying I can help you out.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She put her key in the ignition.
    “Got a brother who likes a taste of the hard stuff now and then,” Roy said. “He wears that same look you got now when the jones comes over him. I know where he gets it, if you’re interested.”
    Georgia didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him, but she didn’t turn the key either.
    “Thought as much. See now, what’d I say? Customer service is all about attention to detail. You got nothing to fear from me. I ain’t gonna turn you in. I’ll tell you where to go, who to ask for, even. I’ll make it easy as pie, and all you gotta do in return is give ol’ Roy some attention. Show him some gratitude. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” He grinned and licked his lips.
    Georgia felt sick. For a moment she thought of sweet, shy Wilbur, so awkward around girls. The boy would grow up to be just like his father, she realized, and that made her angry. She revved the engine. Roy backed away from the window and waved with a big, fake smile like he wasn’t some scumbag looking for a little junkie tail while his wife was away.
    She pulled her car out of the parking space, hoping she might accidentally run over his foot, then left the motel lot and drove back into town.
    Without Roy’s help, though, she didn’t know where to go, so she drove through Buckshot Hill with her