S'wanee: A Paranoid Thriller Read Free Page A

yappy dogs.
    “It’s from S’wanee.”
    “Yes, but
now
?” Marcie was now slightly annoyed at him. “Can I
please
catch my breath?”
    “I’ll go and come back,” Cody said.
    “No!” Marcie yelled. “We’ll be late for the movie.”
    “I don’t want them to send it back,” Cody said, startled by his own urgency.
    “Geezus, it’s a stupid
letter
. It won’t self-destruct.” Marcie hung up.
    Cody folded the door tag in half and slid it into his back pocket, behind his wallet.
    •   •   •
    Cody couldn’t concentrate on the movie, even in 3-D. On the drive to the theater next to the mall, Cody noticed FedEx trucks for the first time. In the long, snaking line for tickets, he wondered why kids wore dark hoodies with the hoods up even in the heat. He wore the same Abercrombie & Fitch moose polo he had worn to work. He’d paid full price, since there wasn’t an Abercrombie at his mall.
    Marcie stood out, not because she was older, but because she looked chic and sexy, like she was on a date. And she was so skinny. The girls half her age were fat and cheap-looking. Marcie really didn’t belong here either.
    “Do you want popcorn?” she asked as they passed the mobbed concession stand.
    What had S’wanee sent him by FedEx?
    There were endless commercials before the movie. Pepsi and Nike and the local Nissan. The crowd talked through them.
    FedEx was expensive. And urgent. Did they send FedEx to everyone? Surely not.
    Marcie nudged him. “Put on your glasses.” He’d missed the previews.
    And the package was sitting on a shelf, in a warehouse, twenty minutes away. Or was it already on a truck for delivery tomorrow? FedEx didn’t lose packages, did they?
    “Are you bored, kiddo?” Marcie whispered hoarsely, stylish in her plastic glasses, and then answered herself. “I’m bored. Let’s go.” The movie was loud, and Kate Beckinsale was yelling onscreen, and Marcie and Cody scooted past the zombies and walked up the aisle.
    “Movies have never been worse,” Marcie said in the parking garage, stamping out her cigarette. She had kept her 3-D glasses. “I paid for them.”
    They were at the Olive Garden in their mall. Marcie spooned her minestrone in circles. She’d eyeballed the restaurant and found the prospects wanting, happily married or not. Cody was full after half his pasta. It was rich, and the plate was big.
    Tomorrow was Saturday. Cody would be at work. He’d miss the package again. Did FedEx deliver on Saturdays? Did that count as a second attempt? He had Sunday off, but he knew they wouldn’t deliver then.
    “Angelina Jolie is really the only movie star we have right now,” Marcie said. “Her and Catherine Zeta Jones.”
    “I like Kristen Stewart,” Cody said, filling the silence.
    “She’s so lazy. I feel like I’m boring her from the audience. And she doesn’t know how to wear a dress. I bet she smokes a lot of pot.”
    Cody could call in sick tomorrow and wait for the package. But the store was busy on Saturdays, and he would lose seventy-eight dollars, after taxes.
    Marcie flagged down the waiter. “Can you wrap this up? And the check, please?” She handed him her mall ID for the discount.
    “Back, back!” Marcie said to the dogs at their apartment. “Can you walk them? I’m sleepy.”
    “Thanks for tonight,” Cody said, grabbing the leashes off the counter.
    “We used to have fun,” Marcie said, holding her new John Irving. She was a voracious reader and bought them in hardback. “I think you need a girlfriend.” She closed the door to her bedroom.
    Outside, the dogs sniffed about on the grass while Cody called the 800 number from the FedEx door tag. He pressed 0 again and again until he got to an operator in India.
    •   •   •
    Cody found the FedEx warehouse on a quiet industrial street flanked by storage facilities. They were open till two on Saturdays and had held the package back from the truck. There was no parking lot, and the street