Greasing the Piñata Read Online Free Page A

Sounding like his third grade teacher, another psycho in a black-and-white outfit, only she had carried a weapon: a ruler. Frank unconsciously rubbed his knuckles at the memory. No wonder he hated this asshole. “Wanna get to the point?”
    “Your lack of discretion makes some people uncomfortable.”
    “Tell those people to get over it,” said Frank. “Those political connections pay your salary.”
    The pale eyes seemed to glow. “I’m not on your payroll.”
    “My mistake.”
    “I couldn’t agree more,” Priest replied. “Let’s hope it’s your last.”
    “That a threat?” Floorboards creaked as Frank shifted in his seat.
    “The kid was an addict. Think that’s smart?”
    Frank held his hands up. “Kids today…
whattya gonna do?
”
    “You don’t seem to be taking this seriously, Frank.”
    “I’m taking this situation very seriously. I think you’re worried I’m not taking you seriously.”
    Priest flashed a smile full of malice, lips closed. “Do I look worried?”
    “You look like a retard at a comic book convention.”
    Priest nodded as if Frank’s comment deserved some further thought. “And the Senator…you weren’t keeping tabs?”
    “He retired. Fell off the grid.”
    “Uh-huh.” Priest pursed his lips. “You know, we’re all fishers of men, Frank. Some we catch and keep, watch after them, nurture them as they grow. Some we throw back into the water because they’re not worth the time and trouble.” He paused as if remembering a summer day, feet dangling in the water as fish darted just below the surface. “But some we gut right there on the dock, because we don’t want them flopping around, scaring the other fish. We gut them and then cut their heads off—do you get my meaning?”
    “Your feet stink.” Frank waved a hand toward Priest’s shoes but was careful not to make contact. “And I’m tired of dancing—cut to the chase or go fuck a nun.”
    Priest collapsed his legs to the floor, leaned forward in his chair. “I—
we
—don’t give a rat’s ass what you do in San Francisco. But this little program of ours demands cooperation.”
    “Cooperation.” Frank expelled the word, clearly disliking its taste.
    “It requires
control
,” said Priest. “And you, my portly colleague, seem to have lost control.”
    Frank’s bulk shifted ominously and Bruno rolled onto the balls of his feet, thinking his boss was about to launch himself across the desk. He’d seen it before and it wasn’t pretty, like a killer whale breaching, leaping into the air to devour a seal. And whenever that happened, it fell to Bruno to clean things up.
    Frank breathed heavily through his nose before settling back into his chair. “I’m on it,” he said. “I got a guy in Mexico, looking into things.”
    “The kid might be dead,” Priest said.
    “You surprised?” said Frank. “Didn’t you just tell me he was a junkie?”
    “The Senator is AWOL.”
    “Who the fuck are you,” asked Frank. “CNN?”
    “The horse is out of the fucking barn, Frank.”
    “And the dish ran away with the spoon—I said
I’m on it.
”
    “So am I,” said Priest, his voice suddenly quiet, barely a whisper. “That’s why I came here—to tell you that until this is settled, you’ve got a shadow.”
    “Stay out of my way and we’ll get along just fine.”
    Priest stood and stretched, his fingers locked together, long arms thrust toward the ceiling. A yoga pose. Frank gave him a look that suggested his testosterone level was being measured and found wanting. Priest arched his back and twisted his shoulders one way, then the other, his gaze locked on Frank, his features vaguely effeminate if not for the soulless eyes.
    “Are you threatening
me
?” His tone was suddenly warm, playful.
    “What if?”
    “Well, that’s really my job—to threaten people.” Priest ran his tongue suggestively across his full lips. “Tell you to stay out of my way, not fuck up again, keep your
goombah
nose where it