Trust Me by Earl Javorsky Read Free Book Online Page A

time. Listen, do something that’ll straighten you out, leave some for the chicks, and tell them you’ll be right back. Really, you’ll be right back.” He knew that Gary was only five minutes from Pop’s, and that Gary’s visitors weren’t going anywhere.
    “Worth my while, eh? Well, okay, I’ll see you there,” Gary said, and he hung up.
    During the whole conversation, Jeff had been staring at the bag on his desk. Now he pulled out the large zip-lock baggie full of white chunks. He reached in the drawer and got a spatula and then opened the bag. He poked around until a long ridge of flaky powder sat on the flat end of the spatula. He looked at it and thought of the night before at Rich’s, then placed it back in the bag. No, he wasn’t even going to start. In fact, he should probably avoid it for a while, get rid of the whole bag of goodies, maybe even go to Kauai and chill for a while after he had taken care of business. Tonight, he would eat, work with Gary, relax with a couple of drinks, and maybe get back to sleep so he could wake up on a decent schedule.
    He pulled an Ohaus triple beam scale from under the desk and carefully weighed the bag. He then inventoried the contents of his briefcase and added the coke to it. He put the inventory list, the cash, and the gun in a false-bottomed waste basket that was filled to the top with nasty trash: beer bottles with cigarette butts in them, Burger King wrappers covered with crusted cheese, and a dried-up apple core.

CHAPTER 10
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    Holly walked into the most beautiful living room she had ever seen. An entire wall was filled with recessed niches, each about twenty inches square and subtly lit from within to display an exotic carving or statuette. She recognized a bronze Kali and a four-armed Shiva, next to which was an African carving with a wooden phallus so massive it looked as if it were about to tip forward. A tapestry depicting a medieval court scene hung above a gleaming grand piano. Four people were present, seated around a marble coffee table. Art led her across the room to them.
    “Holly, I’d like you to meet our hosts Joanie and Diane.” Two women stood up and welcomed her. Joanie was a petite blond in her forties, beautiful, thought Holly, and yet unpretentious. Diane was at least six feet tall, with thick black eyebrows and very pale skin. Joanie took Holly’s hand warmly and told her she had come to the right place.
    “This,” said Joanie, gesturing toward a thin balding man with very bright eyes sitting on the sofa, “is George . . . and Amy.” George and Amy greeted Holly without getting up—Amy had Tarot cards spread on the table in front of her in five groups of three, Holly noticed, and the rest of the deck in her hand.
    “We’ve been waiting for you,” Joanie said, “and Amy has been entertaining us with the occult.” She smiled slightly at this, as if amused, and then said, “Perhaps we should do your cards, Art. The hanged man and the tower have figured so prominently for the rest of us—perhaps you are the key.”
    “Joanie my dear, you’re still looking for the Mark of the Beast on my forehead, after all these years. The only card that consistently shows up for me is the Fool. Now, Holly, have a seat.” Art gestured for Holly to sit at the end of the sofa next to Amy and then brought a leather wing chair over and sat next to them.
    “Those are the strangest-looking cards I have ever seen,” said Holly, peering at a picture of haughty woman on a sled pulled by a leopard, all angles like shards of glass.
    “The set was designed and commissioned by Aleister Crowley,” Joanie said.
    “Who is that?” asked Holly.
    “The most brilliant psychopath of the twentieth century. A nasty man,” said Art. “I have no taste for anything he produced except these brilliant images.”
    “Art, you have every book he ever wrote in your library,” Joanie said.
    “Of course. It’s necessary to explore the darkest corners of the