Three Twisted Stories by Karin Slaughter Read Free Book Online Page A

long time.
    Why not enjoy it?
    Charlie had never been a boxers man, but there were some silk boxers with pinstripes that looked comfortable as hell. He held them to his waist and looked in the mirror. Jesus, his gut was big. He looked like a cartoon of a fat cat. The pleat in his pants was stretched to the limit. There was a coffee stain on his jacket lapel. His tie was crooked. Had it been that way when Commissioner Ballantine had complimented him on the color? Charlie had told himself that the man was just being polite, but the truth was the whole exchange had made him uncomfortable. What did the color of his tie have to do with picking out a car?
    Charlie looked up. A couple of women were staring at him like it was weird for a man tobe in the men’s department. Maybe they were right. So far as he could tell, Charlie was the only guy in the place. It almost felt dangerous.
    He put the silk boxers back on the rack and grabbed a three-pack of Hanes. Maybe he could come back after work and pick out something different. Surely there would be more men around at night. He could probably use a new suit. And his shirt collars were looking frayed. Plus, he was sick of all his ties. He felt like he wore the same thing week after week.
    He stopped at one of the displays in the middle of the aisle. Easter baskets. Colorful pastel wrappers covered chocolate eggs. The fake polyester grass reminded him of Mr. Salmeri’s chest hair. Marshmallow Peeps. He never liked those. He didn’t see the point. Too many empty calories.
    Charlie picked up one of the eggs. Saliva filled his mouth. He could almost taste the chocolate. Charlie unpeeled the wrapper and shoved an egg into his mouth. The sugar and cocoa explosion was so intense that he had to close his eyes. He ate another one. Then another one. Before he knew it, the basket was empty except for the Peeps.
    Charlie heard a throat being cleared behind him. The woman at the register was giving him the stinkeye. He grabbed up the Peep basket as well as a new one for his daughter. He walked over to the counter.
    “Sorry.” Charlie forced a laugh, smiling at the stern brunette. “Couldn’t help myself.”
    She didn’t laugh with him. Instead, she rang up the baskets and underwear, hitting the keys hard with her fingers. “Six dollars and twelve cents.”
    Charlie reached into his pocket. Instead of the wad of cash he normally kept, there was nothing but lint. Charlie laughed again as he reached for his wallet.
    Fuck
. He’d left it on the bureau at home. He could see the fat billfold in his mind’s eye. What was wrong with him? He never walked out without cash.
    “Sir?” the woman said.
    He read her name off her name tag. “Judy. I have an account here.” Charlie leaned against the counter. “I mean, my wife has an account. Mrs. Charles Lam.”
    “Do you have your driver’s license?”
    “In my wallet, which I left at home.” Charlie winced as he shrugged. He felt his cheeks getting hot. The woman thought he was poor—or worse, a thief. She didn’t know he had thousands of dollars in the bank. That he ran a successful business. That he had a wife and child.She thought he was some moocher off the street.
    He tried to be pleasant, like this was no big deal. “Can you look up the account?”
    Judy snatched up the phone. She tugged the rotary around, dialing in the extension. Charlie looked behind him. There was a line. Three women, all dressed to the nines with pointy high heels and perfectly coiffed hair. He could almost hear them judging him. Charlie wasn’t wearing his best suit. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing his second-best suit. Two hundred dollars off the rack, sure, but he bought them out of the trunk of a traveling salesman’s car for seventy-five bucks, no questions asked.
    “Mabel, this is Judy in accessories. Can you look up an account for me?” She tapped her fingers against the counter. Charlie saw her neatly trimmed nails. He wondered if the store made her