Dog Eat Dog by Edward Bunker Read Free Book Online Page A

brother.” He extended his hand and smiled. As Diesel shook hands, he looked into Mad Dog’s eyes. They were flat and somehow empty. If you could see the soul through the eyes, Mad Dog had none.
    “See you when Troy raises,” Mad Dog said.
    “Yeah—and then we’ll all get rich.”
    As Diesel pulled away, he saw Mad Dog McCain smoking a cigarette outside the impound office door. Should I do it? he thought. What’s the downside? Lose his friendship? That was no loss at all. Maybe have to kill him? Doubtful.
    Ahead was the intersection where he had to decide. Left to Interstate 5 southbound, straight ahead to the old house and the money in the freezer.
    The light was green and he went straight ahead.
    He drove past the house, went around the corner and parked. Better to walk an extra half block than risk Mad Dog coming back and seeing the car. From the glove compartment he took the .38 and a flashlight. He got out and walked back.
    Diesel went up the stairs with surprising speed and agility for someone his bulk. If it was big money, he could wait and waste Mad Dog when he came back.
    Around the rear of the house, no hesitation. The key. Up the steps to the back porch. It was dark and he didn’t want to turn on a light. A neighbor’s window threw off enough light to outline shapes. He went straight to where Mad Dog had looked, the freezer. He lifted the lid with one hand and held the flashlight with the other, training the beam down inside.
    The flashlight illuminated Sheila’s face and open eyes, frozen solid and covered with a layer of frost.
    The hair on the back of his neck stood up, something he’d never previously experienced. He yelped and jumped back, letting the lid crash down. His heart pounded and he shook. Good God. No wonder the motherfucker wanted out of jail so bad—before somebody else looked in the freezer.
    What about the kid?
    Diesel saw a dish towel hanging over the refrigerator door handle. He grabbed it and used it to lift the freezer lid again. This time he knew what to expect. Sure enough, the child was under the woman, part of her arm sticking out. “Dirty, stinkin’ motherfucker,” he muttered. He could accept that an adult deserved to die for something, but a little kid … It knotted his stomach in pain and disgust. For a moment he thought of something he had never once considered in his entire life: putting a coin in a pay phone and snitching. He erased the idea instantly.
    He had to get out of here. What about the money? Fuck the money. He had no idea where it was. Mad Dog had checked on bodies, not the money stash.
    Diesel wiped the freezer lid with the dish towel. He had left fingerprints elsewhere in the house, but there was no way to get rid of them. All that really mattered was the freezer, and that was okay.
    He went out, locking the door, and headed for his car. During the long drive back to the Bay Area, he repeatedly saw Sheila’s face covered with frost. He didn’t want to see it. He wanted to forget it.
    When he got home, the memory of the horror weighed so heavily that Gloria asked him if anything was wrong. He almost blurted it out, but then he shook his head. “Everything is cool.”
    A few weeks later, Mad Dog McCain called Diesel to say that he had moved back to Sacramento. He left his phone number and said that he had already written Troy with the address. “He raises pretty soon; right?”
    “Four or five weeks.”
    “Man, I’m jack ready. We’re gonna be a crime wave all by ourselves.”
    When Diesel hung up, he was shaking. What would Troy say about the murders? Maybe he could explain how somebody could kill a little kid. It was beyond Diesel’s understanding. “Junior, come here,” he called, catching his son and swinging him up into his arms.

Chapter 04
    4
    Unlike most of San Quentin’s inmates, Troy Augustus Cameron was born solidly to the upper middle class. His father was a wealthy Beverly Hills urologist, his mother the U.S.C. Homecoming Queen.