Deep House by Thomas King

Author:Thomas King
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2021-11-19T00:00:00+00:00

23

There was a football game on the big screen above the bar, and Thumps stayed at the table and nursed his burger and fries until the contest got into the fourth quarter and the outcome was pretty well assured.

Mobley had been surprisingly forthright with information. Thumps doubted that Burke or Chandler would have given him the time of day. Or Cruz for that matter. Thumps was sure his shadowy friend was only telling him part of the story.

“Hey, Thumps.”

Big Fish Patek slid into the chair and helped himself to the fries.

“You find your friend?”

Thumps nodded.

“Great.” Big Fish laid a couple of coupons on the table. “This entitles him to a free beer when he buys a medium pizza.”

“Guy’s dead,” said Thumps.

“Damn.” Big Fish pulled the coupons back. “Guess he’s not going to be interested in the big line-dance contest at the end of the week.”

“Does Hack bite?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Thumps. “When I was out at Claire’s place, Ivory bit me.”

“Oh,” said Big Fish. “And you’re wondering if all babies do that.”

“Just curious.”

“Hack don’t have any teeth yet,” said Big Fish, “but Lorraine says he chomps the hell out of her nipples.”

“Never mind.”

“No,” said Big Fish, “it’s a good question. I’ll keep an eye out and let you know.”

Thumps’s plate was empty. His glass was empty.

“That friend of yours,” said Big Fish. “He the guy the sheriff dragged out of Deep House?”

“Yep.”

“Hear he died of a heart attack.” Big Fish cocked his head. “How the hell did he wind up in the canyon?”

“No idea.”

Big Fish pointed to Thumps’s plate. “You want more fries?”

THUMPS HALF EXPECTED to see Cruz’s car parked in front of his house. Of course, the man could have parked it several blocks away, could be waiting for him in the living room, eating his food, playing with his cats, reading his novel.

The lights were on at Dixie’s, the blinds drawn. As Thumps came up the walk, he saw Pops’s shadow pass by the living-room window. There was some relief in the sighting. He worried that the dog might have found a way to break into his house in order to be with Freeway and the babies. The cat door had been an early attempt that failed. But how long would it be before the dog realized that the answer was to hit the door at speed? And once the dog got in, how would you get him out?

Of course, Pops could be the excuse he was looking for. Claire was known to have sympathetic moments. If he showed up on her doorstep, suitcase in hand, with a sad tale of being displaced by a vicious, farty hound, would she turn him away?

Probably.

The box on the porch was a surprise. There was a note taped to it.

For your kitty and the kittens, Dixie and Pops.

Inside the box was a bag of cat food for kittens, a bag for adult cats, two boxes of non-clumping kitty litter, a large cat basket, and an assortment of toys. The very things he had been meaning to buy but had forgotten.

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