Trust Me by Earl Javorsky Read Free Book Online

have to make funny to get by, you know?”
    He pulled into the driveway of his small canyon home and turned off the engine and the lights. Sitting in the still darkness, he realized how much he liked the cop at the other end of the line.
    After a pause, he said, “You okay tonight, Joe? Something getting you down?”
    “Naw, fuck no, same old same old.” The Land Rover was still making its cooling off pops and clicks. “Where are you, anyway?”
    “I just got home from a lecture. It was good except for the goddamned sales pitch at the end.”
    “You like all that New Age shit, don’t you? Me, I think it’s a waste of time.” Ron could hear the clinking of ice cubes through the phone. He pictured Joe at his computer with a bottle of Tanqueray.
    “Joe,” Ron said, “you know what they say about contempt prior to investigation. I like to go out there like the world is a big banquet and I can pick a little of this and a little of that and come back with some useful information. It’s kind of like digging for gold.”
    “More like scrounging in the fuckin’ dump, if you ask me,” Joe replied. “Hey, I’ll bet these New Age shindigs have great looking chicks, am I right?”
    “Well, now that you mention it . . .”
    “Yeah, contempt prior to investigation my ass. Hey, Ron, catch me tomorrow—my inner child has to take a piss.” Ron heard a chuckle and a click, and then there was nothing but the sound of a solo cricket chirping in the darkness.

CHAPTER 9
    ⍫
    Jeff woke for the fourth time and decided this time he would get up. He had made the same decision earlier, but then revoked it because it was dark outside—too early, he had thought, and had gone back to sleep.
    For some reason, the sun wasn’t up yet. Puzzled, he looked at his clock and saw that it was 9:30—he had slept all day. His cell phone said that he had twelve messages. Usually that was good news; it meant people were ready to do business. Right now, though, it filled him with dread. He ignored it and left the ring volume off.
    He realized that he was still dressed. Gradually, the pieces of the previous three days began to assemble themselves, culminating in his arrival home from Rich’s at nine in the morning. God, what a nightmare. He must have fallen asleep right away.
    He stripped and made his way through the dark room to the bathroom, where he finally turned on the light. Squinting in the bright illumination, he turned on the shower, waited for the hot water, and stepped in. The water felt good as he let it beat on his face—he had a moment of pure luxury before the reality of his situation began to filter into his thoughts.
    Aiming straight down between his feet, he urinated into the drain for what seemed like forever. He was lightheaded from hunger and knew he needed to eat so he could think more clearly. Several things were very clear to him: that Lilah could cause him a lot of trouble if she talked, that he was short on the San Francisco investment now that most of it was in Rich’s carpet, and that the messages on his phone were probably mainly angry calls from Rich. And that none of it mattered: only Marilyn mattered now.
    He cleaned up, then dried off and dressed in jeans and, because it was still hot, a tee shirt. The shirt was white with a logo on it that said Channel Island Surfboards. He chose a contact from his phone’s list and thumbed the dial icon.
    “Hello?” He heard voices, laughter, and music blaring in the background.
    “Gary, hey, it’s me. Gotta see you. Meet me at Pop’s in half an hour; can you make it?” Jeff felt a little shaky—it seemed like a long time since he had talked to anyone.
    “Bad timing, man,” Gary said through the noise. “We’re like, ah, already committed, you know?”
    What Gary meant was that he had company, probably a friend and a couple of women, and that they had already ingested enough drugs to make leaving the house impractical.
    “I’ll make it worth your while, big