Bestial Read Online Free Page A

Esalen for the whole weekend?”
    “At least. It’s a resort-style conference center where people gather to meditate, discuss alternative science, the soul, philosophy and odd religious stuff, nutrition, whatever.”
    He grunted. “Sounds like a circle jerk for people with too much money and time on their hands.”
    “We think alike, Mr. Keoph. At least it’ll be pretty. Big Sur is gorgeous.”
    Gavin turned his head to the right and looked out at the richly colored coast. “Everything is gorgeous around here. If Burgess is busy with this weird seminar, what does he want with us?”
    “The usual. He has something for us to do. You know him. It couldn’t wait.”
    “What’s with the ring size?”
    Burgess had asked for their ring sizes. Left hand, wedding finger.
    “I don’t know,” Karen said. “All I know is that he has someone there he wants us to meet, and then he’s going to give us another assignment.”
    They were silent for awhile as Gavin drove. Finally, he frowned and turned to Karen. “They discuss ‘alternative science’? What is ‘ alternative science’, anyway? I mean, there’s... empiricism, right? What other kind of science—I mean, real science—is there?”
    Karen shrugged. “I’m okay, you’re okay? If it feels good, do it? That sort of thing.”
    Gavin’s eyebrows rose and he nodded. “Ah, okay. Get in touch with your inner child. Make love, not war.”
    “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”
    “Sit on it, Potsie.”
    Karen laughed.
    Gavin shook his head slowly and said, “We are working for a loon.”
    “Ah, yes, but he’s a loon who pays very well.”
    Martin Burgess, the loon to whom they referred, was a writer of gruesome horror novels that routinely made the bestseller lists and were made into typically bad movies that yielded bigger box office receipts than they deserved. His work, combined with his quirky, witty personality, made him a frequent guest on talk shows.
    “Did you see him on Letterman last week?” Gavin asked.
    “Burgess? Sure. He and Letterman are good together.”
    Gavin chuckled. “Letterman always acts like he’s a little afraid of him. It’s funny.”
    “Anyone who’s read his books has got to be a little nervous about him at first. I mean, he writes some pretty... well, strange stuff. That last book, the one about the alien women with fanged vaginas—what kind of person thinks that stuff up?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Any man who’s dated for any length of time?”
    “Chauvinist pig.”
    “Ah, more seventies jargon.”
    She laughed. “Burgess is harmless. He’s just got a wild imagination.”
    “Oh, yeah, he’s a nice guy. I actually like him. He’s just... I don’t know.”
    “A loon.”
    “Yeah.”
    The two of them had met two years earlier when Martin Burgess, whom they’d heard of but hadn’t known at the time, summoned them to the Beverly Hills Hotel. Karen was co-owner of Moffett and Brand Private Investigators in Los Angeles, and Gavin owned Burning Lizard Security and Investigations in San Francisco. Burgess had conducted a lengthy search for private investigators whom he felt were well-suited to his needs, and they were the best he’d found. He’d made them an offer—they were to farm out their current clients to other investigators in their employ and place their firms temporarily in the care of others while they devoted their full time to an investigation for Burgess, for which he would pay them handsomely. Very handsomely. Once they learned the details of the investigation, though, they saw the large paycheck in a different light. The whole thing—the investigation, the money—struck them both, at first, as the whim of a rich, happy lunatic.
    In the course of that investigation, a number of people had been killed—some for the second time—and Karen and Gavin had come close to joining them. Karen’s fate had been especially dark, and it had taken her awhile to get past it. She’d put up a good