Greasing the Piñata Read Online Free Page B

belongs.”
    Frank’s head twitched as if a seizure had begun. That was the cue Bruno had been waiting for—he took a long, aggressive step around the desk. It wouldn’t be the first time he escorted an unwanted guest out of Frank’s office by the scruff of his neck.
    Most guys backed away when they saw Bruno coming, even the hard cases, so he wasn’t prepared when Priest stepped toward him, an almost flirtatious smile on his face. Before Bruno could bring his hands up, Priest glided past, his right hand sweeping toward Bruno’s face.
    Priest hooked his thumb into the other man’s left eye socket as effortlessly as a child popping a soap bubble. There was a wet sucking sound and suddenly Bruno was on his knees, screaming.
    “Jesus.” Alex froze momentarily, repulsed by the scene before him. The sound of Frank’s chair scraping against the floor brought him back to his senses. Alex went for the gun in his waistband but for once moved too slowly. As graceful as a dancer Priest ducked behind him, arching as he grasped the other man’s head, a silent partner in a ballet of pain. He pirouetted to face the other way, twisting his arms as he turned. A loud snap as vertebrae separated and Alex slumped across Frank, his lifeless body pinning his erstwhile employer in his chair.
    Frank pushed against the desk frantically, desperate to free himself, but Priest was already behind him. Bruno was crawling across the floor toward the door, his left hand scratching pitifully at his ruined eye socket, blood pouring through his fingers. And Alex was dead weight, more effective than handcuffs at keeping Frank prisoner.
    “Now then,” said Priest, moving to sit on the edge of the desk. Frank’s lips twitched spasmodically. Priest reached forward and ran his hand gently across Frank’s sweating scalp, a mother soothing an hysterical child. “I think you’d agree that threatening you now would be, well,
redundant
.”
    “I don’t do business with psychos.” It sounded better in Frank’s head than when he actually muttered the words. His voice felt hollow, even to his own ears.
    Priest noticed the gore on his thumb, jellied plasma from Bruno’s ravaged eye. He removed his hand from Frank’s head and extended it for a good look. With the air of a man pulling lint from his suit, Priest brought the thumb to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it as Frank watched in disbelief.
    Priest sucked noisily, his eyes flashing with delight as Frank started to gag. He removed the thumb with a dramatic
pop
, then smiled with an open mouth, and Frank noticed for the first time how both incisors had been filed to sharp points. Priest curled his tongue against one of the fangs as if cleaning it, then laid his hand gently on the side of Frank’s face. “Believe it or not, I’m a patient man.” He caressed Frank’s cheek lovingly with his thumb, up toward the left eye, down toward the trembling mouth. “So I wanted to give you the opportunity to share anything that you think could be useful. Anything at all.”
    Frank’s eye tracked the movement of the thumb as if watching a tarantula crawl across his skin. His lips moved but no sound emerged.
    “Look at me, Frank.” The dull eyes looked like holes drilled into Priest’s face, the empty orbs of a pirate skull. “Look at these clothes. Isn’t there something you want to
confess
?”
    Frank felt the pressure of the thumb increase as it swept upward, the bite of the nail, and started to scream.

Chapter Seven
    Cape left the Ford dealers poolside with a collection of mini-umbrellas vast enough to protect the entire population of Lilliput from a monsoon. Bud had passed out, and Cecil was on a rant about the importance of quality, service, and reliability to the educated car buyer. Neither noticed when Cape took his leave and moved inside to the lobby bar.
    The bar sat on the other side of a glass wall overlooking the pool. You got the same view of scantily clad women as the poolside bar