One Grave Too Many by Ron Goulart Read Free Book Online

around the eyes.”
    Crossen was back in the bathroom doorway. “I just got the poor pet to sleep,” he said. “You’re not going to ask her anything until she’s had a good long sleep.”
    “What about you?” said Easy. “Ever seen either of those guys before?”
    “No, they’re a little too rough for my … um …” He brushed back his hair, touched the tip of his tongue to the center of his upper lip.
    “Something?”
    “It just occurred to me I may have seen the little one before,” said Crossen. “Yes, about a week ago. I do a great deal of our shopping at a delightful little gourmet shop in Manzana. I have the impression that he was in there, pretending to browse around … and, yes. When I left he did, too. In fact, he followed me out of town in his car. At the time I didn’t think too much of it.”
    “Just another conquest,” said Gary.
    Crossen kept his eyes on Easy. “I’m certain it was the same little man.”
    “So they’ve been thinking about this for awhile,” said Easy, “looking things over, out here and in LA.”
    Crossen backed out into the hall again. “Now I really believe, if you’re able, Gary, that you ought to leave. I’ve got a busy night ahead of me.”
    “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”
    Easy said, “You’ll have to wait here till I get my car. It’s parked in Manzana.”
    “I’d offer to run you in,” said Crossen, “but I really don’t think I dare leave poor Vida.”
    Gary nodded at the 24-hour drive-in which seemed to be floating in the darkness up ahead to their right. “I haven’t eaten for awhile,” he said. “That may not be the best place to resume my eating career, but could we stop?”
    “Sure.” Easy flipped his turn indicator and guided his VW off the wide black road and onto pink gravel.
    The name of the place, according to all its neon signs, was Another Fat Ed’s. Two lesbians in black motorcycle jackets were the only other customers. It was a few minutes past 3 A.M.
    The waitress was a greying woman with a propeller beanie atop her head. “Fall off your cycle?” she asked Gary when she came to the chill formica and pseudoleather booth they’d taken.
    “Little accident around the house,” said Gary, taking the green plastic menu she handed.
    “Wife lower the boom?”
    “You’re very perceptive,” said Easy. “Why the propeller?”
    “It livens things up,” she said.
    “I’d like a glass of skim milk,” Easy said, not looking at his menu.
    “Health freak?”
    “Right again.”
    “All we got is regular milk. How about, since you’re concerned for your health, a glass of orangeade.”
    “That should hit the spot,” said Easy.
    “How about you, Battling Nelson?”
    “Can I get the #2 breakfast?” Gary asked.
    The waitress leaned down, took the menu from him, flipped it over and tapped it. “Can you read that?”
    “Breakfast Served Round The Clock!” Okay, I’ll take the #2 breakfast.”
    “White or whole wheat?”
    “Whole wheat.”
    “Another health freak,” she said and left them.
    Gary sighed out a breath. “I don’t know if I can actually eat or not.”
    Easy asked, “What’s that piece of paper about?”
    Closing his eyes, Gary leaned back against the tufted red imitation leather. “The paper they kept showing me? It’s about … money,” he answered. “I never saw it before those bastards found it in one of dad’s archeology books.”
    “One of the books you had at your cottage?”
    “No, it was in between the pages of a book stored in my aunt’s basement. That’s why they hauled me out there in the first place, to look for the paper.” He opened his eyes, noticed the big clock dangling above the counter. “We ought to call Gay, let her know you found me.”
    “I already called her. When you were first in the John.”
    “I didn’t know that.” He shook his head. “Only just thought of her now. I guess I’m groggier than … so she knows I’m okay?”
    “Yeah,” said Easy. “I also