California Bust by W J Costello

Author:W J Costello [Costello, W J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-08-13T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

I WAS SHAVING my head in the shower when I heard somebody knocking on the entry door to my RV.

My head was only half shaved. The left side still had stubble on it. I looked ridiculous. The situation wasn’t unlike having one shoe on and one shoe off. Do you answer the door that way? Or do you put on the other shoe first?

Knock knock knock.

Insistent knocking.

So much for shaving the other half of my head.

I got out of the shower and knotted a big white towel around my waist. The red bandanna I had bought from Biker’s Barn lay neatly folded in a drawer and I took it out and tied it around my head.

Knock knock knock.

“Just a minute.”

I looked out the window.

Hawg again.

Now what?

I let him in.

“Another social call, Hawg?”

“I did more background checks on you.”

“What kind of checks?”

“DMV records. Criminal record. Reference check. Credit check. Employment history. Educational history.”

“You check me out on the Internet too?”

“Bet your ass.”

“See me in any porn movies?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not kidding. I used to be a big porn star. Really big. My porn name was the Long Ranger. You might have seen me in Pulp Friction or Frisky Business or Pornocchio or . . .”

“Shut up. I’m serious.”

“Too serious.”

“What?”

“Nothing’s that serious. Except humor. Take humor seriously.”

He unsheathed a knife.

I recognized it. Shank’s big hunting knife.

Why did Hawg have it?

And why did he bring it?

I had no weapon to defend myself. Not really. Not unless you counted the pee-shooter that bulged under my towel.

The knife made me uneasy.

In my mind all the soldiers poured off the trucks with their automatic weapons at the ready. They took cover in the ruins of buildings and there they lay in wait for the enemy.

Had the background checks revealed my true identity? Was my cover blown? What did Hawg know about me? That I worked in law enforcement? That I was undercover? That one of the marshals killed at LAX was my cousin?

Could it have been Hawg who killed my cousin?

I wondered.

Hawg pointed the knife at the refrigerator.

“Why’s that thing so loud?”

“Because it’s a sound machine as well as a refrigerator. It plays humming sounds and nature sounds and white noise. I had to pay extra for that feature. Well worth it though.”

The blade of the knife glinted.

Hunting knives can do a lot of damage. They are made of stainless steel and they can sever muscles and tendons and bones. Hunters use them to skin animals and to cut up meat.

My guns were out of reach. So were the kitchen knives. A ballpoint pen lay on the dinette table. I could thrust it into his eye or crotch or throat. A hardback book lay on the sofa. I could use it to shield myself. I could pull the rug out from under him. The coffee in my mug was probably still scalding hot and I could hurl it at him. I could fit my keys between my fingers and then ball my hand into a fist and smash it into his face.

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