Page 35 of Evil Bones
“Guess that makes for sizzlingbone-journookie.” I doubted Skinny was clever enough to realize his pun.
Didn’t matter. No way would I discuss my sex life with him.
“Your niece still around?” he asked, after another round of silence.
“Ruthie. She’s mostly staying with Katy.”
“The kid’s how old now? Ten? Twelve?”
“Seventeen.”
“Time sure as shit flies. I remember when she was a scrappy little runt with scabs on her knees. What’s she up to?”
“I suppose you could say she’s taking a gap year.”
Slidell slid me a sidelong glance, the cant of his brows suggesting no comprehension.
“She’s trying to figure out what to do with her life,” I translated.
“Today’s kids are pampered little assholes.” As the brows re-angled, “When I was coming up, we didn’t get no goddam gap—”
“How’s Doris?” To shut down a critique of modern youth, I asked about Skinny’s long-term on-again-off-again girlfriend.
“Doris and me are stepping back.”
Nope. Not going there.
“You look especially nice today.” Now Iwascurious about Slidell’s slicked-up appearance.
Color crept up Skinny’s neck and into his cheeks.
“I got a lunch date.”
“Oh?”
“Name’s Lyric. She’s an entertainer.”
“That’s quite unusual.”
“Eeyuh.” In a tone suggesting the subject was closed.
Taking the hint, I refocused on my puzzle.
Twenty minutes later, we’d finally made it to our turnoff. Hooking a right onto a park service road, Slidell asked,
“When?”
“When what?” I asked, clueless to the new thread unspooling in Skinny’s brain.
“Jesus H Christ. When did the goddam dog go missing?”
“Tuesday.”
“So this asshole didn’t keep it long.”
“No.”
We passed the tennis complex on our right. A dozen women were warming up for doubles. Probably a league.
