Killing Pretty Read Free Page A

don’t find any.
    â€œShe’s out getting some new clothes and things. Since she got her new face, she’s been doing this bleach-­blond kogal look. You know, Japanese schoolgirl drag. She was having fun, but I went through the plaid-­skirt thing back with my old magic circle. A woman named Cherry Moon. She wanted to look like a junior high princess forever. After that, I don’t want anything to do with that Lolita stuff. So, she said she’d figure out something else.”
    â€œSounds like she likes you.”
    â€œShe just likes my movie collection.”
    â€œI’m sure that’s what it is.”
    A new song comes on the jukebox, a fifties cha-­cha version of “Jingle Bells.” I’m going to have to speak to Carlos about how his Santa fetish is curdling his taste in music.
    â€œI have some good news,” Julie says. “I think I found a real office. On Sunset, near Sanborn. It’s a little two-­story building that used to have a dentist on the first floor and a telemarketing company on the second. The woman who owns it left when the floods started. There’s some water damage in the lobby, but it’s not bad and she has insurance. Best of all, after all the craziness, she doesn’t want to come back to L.A. and will sell me the whole place for a song.”
    â€œThat’s great. Congratulations.”
    Julie smiles.
    â€œI mean, it’s not much to look at. It’s between an El Pollo Loco and an empty garage, and across the street from a used car lot.”
    â€œA car lot? That’s convenient. I’m going to need to steal a lot more cars now that I can’t shadow-­walk anymore.”
    â€œDon’t even think about it,” says Julie, suddenly serious.
    â€œFine. I’ll get around on a Vespa. See how much your clients like that.”
    â€œCan’t you ride your motorcycle?”
    â€œI brought it back from Hell. There’s no way it’s street legal and I’m not looking for any more run-­ins with LAPD.”
    â€œAnd you think stealing cars will help you avoid that?”
    I’m not a huge fan of other ­people’s logic.
    â€œDon’t worry,” she says, “we’ll figure out something. Just no stealing anything in the neighborhood.”
    â€œCross my heart.”
    â€œWith luck I’ll sign the papers next week. I’m putting my condo up for sale. That will cover most of the costs.”
    â€œI’ll cross my fingers and toes too.”
    â€œThanks.”
    Julie shuffles the printouts until they’re straight. She riffles through them one more time and puts them in a soft-­sided leather attaché case.
    â€œI really think we’re onto something,” she says.
    â€œI hope so.”
    I look at the last dregs of cold coffee in my cup.
    â€œI need another drink. You?”
    She drains the last of her beer. Shakes her head.
    â€œI’m good. You’re sticking with coffee, right?”
    â€œWhile you drink beer?”
    â€œI don’t have a drinking problem.”
    â€œYou think I do?”
    She starts to say something, but stops, like she doesn’t want to get into it.
    â€œJust stick to coffee for now.”
    â€œYes, boss.”
    I head back to the bar. Carlos sees me coming and has the coffeepot ready.
    â€œHow’s the sober life treating you so far?”
    â€œIt’s been ten minutes of sheer hell.”
    â€œI hear it gets better.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œFuck you.”
    Carlos puts a hand to his ear.
    â€œSorry. I can’t hear you over the music.”
    I give him the finger as he moves on to other customers.
    â€œYou heard me just fine.”
    Someone says, “Drink up, cowboy. I’ll get the next round.”
    It’s a woman’s voice, but when I look there’s no one there. Someone taps me on the shoulder. I have to turn to see her.
    She’s wearing