Three Twisted Stories by Karin Slaughter Read Free Book Online

car were you looking for?” The question was perfunctory. All these black guys wanted new Cadillacs, just like the white guys who worked under the last administration wanted Ford LTDs.
    “Hmm.” Ballantine made a show of thinking about Charlie’s question. “You got any new Cadillacs?”
    Charlie walked across the Lenox Square parking lot. There were Braves pennants all around the outdoor square. He could see women sitting at tables having lunch. The sun was high in the sky. It was one of those perfect spring days where everything was blooming. Azaleas, dogwoods, tulips. Normally, all Charlie could think about was the pollen, but now he was feeling wistful because he knew that in a few weeks, all the blooms would fall away.
    He headed toward Davison’s. He needed new underwear. The toilet paper wasn’t enough, and besides, it was disgusting to walk around like this all day. He probably had a bladder infection. Charlie had had one of those years ago. Hurt just the same, like a knife in his back. He’d peed more than blood back then. There was pus. The doctor had said the words “bladder infection” like there was something else going on. Charlie had just gotten back from Vegas. He knew what the something else was, and assumed the gal who had given it to him would need a dose of penicillin, too.
    So, he had a bladder infection. Or a kidney infection. Or he’d caught something off the homeless guy.
    The homeless guy.
    Melvin Finkelmeyer. They had struggled over the knife. Had he managed to punch Charlie in the back and Charlie didn’t remember? The whole thing was a blur to him. Maybe he’d bumped into the door handle. That would explain why the skin felt bruised. Or maybe Charlie had hurt his back when he fell to the ground. He could’ve landed wrong. Who the hell knew what had happened? Whatever it was, Charlie would go to a doctor and get a shot or take some pills and he’d be fine. He made a mental note to make an appointment when he got back from the mall.
    Normally, his wife did all his shopping, but Charlie figured by the time he told her what to buy, he could just get it himself. Besides, he wanted some time away from the dealership.Deacon was getting on his last nerve. He had two calls from two brothers who he knew would be asking for money. His girlfriend had called three times, probably to smooth things over about last night, though Charlie wasn’t sure that could ever be smoothed over. Worst of all, as he was walking out of the dealership, Darla had handed him a message that the cop from last night had called.
    Jo. Probably short for Joanna. Charlie didn’t even know her last name. He felt his stomach roil at the memory of her touching him. “Groping” was a more accurate word. Charlie shuddered. He felt dirty every time he thought about it.
    So he tried to push it from his mind as he walked through the department store. There were Easter decorations all around. Charlie had forgotten the holiday was coming up. He should get his daughter something. She was too old, but what the hell.
    Charlie found the men’s department in the back of the store. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. There were all kinds of underwear, not just his usual briefs. Pajamas with matching robes. Slippers that looked soft enough to make you feel like you were walking on a cloud. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shopped for anything new for himself. There were traveling salesmen who came to the dealership selling shit out of the back of their cars—suits, Valentine’s roses, steaks, whatever fell off the closest truck.
    Being in a mall was different. No one knew Charlie was here. No one was going to run up asking for a favor or a handout or advice. The whole point of these stores was that everybody was there for
him
. Charlie couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about the anonymity of being just another shopper that made him feel more content than he’d felt in a