Cry Me a River Read Free

None of that platoon bullshit the Cougars use.”
    He looked at her with a shit-eating grin. Her heart skipped and she narrowed her eyes.
    “What, do you already know the score?” He raised his eyebrows, all innocence, and she turned her eyes into slits. “Don’t you dare tell me.”
    “You ready to give your life to God? Otherwise … well, let’s see … the Sooners made the first down—”
    She cupped her ears and turned her back. “It’s gotta be free will, Earl. This is duress.”
    He chuckled. Tentatively, she lowered her hands, making a half turn. He just looked at her. Shrugged.
    “You know that’s not my style, bribing you. But if you feel a declaration coming on …” He pantomimed uncapping his own ears.
    “Let’s stick with pizza,” she said. “You in the mood for the usual?”
    He nodded. “No mushrooms, extra jalapeños. And them bread sticks,” he added. “With the Parmesan cheese.”
    She grinned crookedly. Earl went through more food than a linebacker.
    “On it.” She crossed to the phone to place their order. Once that was done, she took another swig of tequila. “Want to jump in the shower with me?”
    He shrugged. “It’d be tight quarters with the wings and all.”
    “Uh-huh,” she drawled, unconvinced. Earl seemed to have a modest streak she had yet to cure him of. For her part, she flashed her next-door neighbor as a matter of course.
    Still smirking, she maintained possession of the tequila and two more beers and sailed into the bathroom, stripped to the empty, dark window across the yard, and heard her TV go on. The volume was low, and she could make out the rumbly bass of Earl’s voice as he chatted with Gus. Apparently they actually communicated, which didn’t surprise her. She and Gus had a language all their own, too.
    All dogs went to heaven. Earl had promised.
    Steam rose around her; the water was as hot as she could stand. She poured some scented bath oil over her shoulders and let it run down her arms and breasts. Her face got wet and she wasn’t exactly crying; maybe she was shedding the anger, like a lizard sheds its skin … no. Away from the uplifting chitchat in the kitchen, she felt as heavy and as burdened as when the paramedic had stopped the CPR in that stinking, filthy alley. Grace had taken off her jacket and laid it over Haleem’s face. Had touched his cheek. The EMT had told Grace that he was sorry, as if Haleem were someone special to her.
    “I’m going to make him pay, Haleem,” she said aloud, making a gun with her hand and shooting off a round. “Nothing’s getting in my way of that.”
    She wrapped her hair in a towel, got on her flannel pajamas and her bathrobe, and made it back down the hall just in time to collect the pizza from the deliveryguy. Cute, plus he clearly liked her jammies. She gave him five bucks extra. Earl and Gus gazed up at her expectantly from the couch.
    Then her landline rang.
    She took a look at the number. Ham. Sighing, she held the pizza box out to Earl, who received it, looking on. She wondered if he already knew why Ham was calling. Either Ham wanted to get a Grace-fix—he was getting kind of addicted to her—or he had police business to discuss.
    “Hey, Ham,” she said.
    “Hey, you okay?” he began.
    Oh, God, the Sooners lost
, she thought with a sickening wrench. Then she realized he was referring to Haleem. “Yeah. I’m good.”
    “There’s been a homicide sixteen blocks south of the alley where Haleem was killed. North Rob. Looks like the dealer.”
    “Good,” Grace said, and Earl raised a brow. What, did he want her to pretend? She really was glad that the scumbag was dead. “Anybody see it happen?”
    “If they did, guess they aren’t talking. People around there are scared.”
    “Yeah, they’re getting more than their share of it these days,” she concurred. Street violence in OKC was way up. So were petty crime, vandalism, and the rest of the annoying crap poor people in bad neighborhoods