Huge by James W. Fuerst

Author:James W. Fuerst [Fuerst, James W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Literary, Family Life, Literary Criticism, Detective and mystery stories, Interpersonal Relations, Families, Self-Help, Personal Growth, Books and reading, Mystery and Detective Stories, Self-Actualization (Psychology), Children's Literature, Proofs (Printing), new jersey
ISBN: 9780307452498
Publisher: Broadway
Published: 2009-07-07T06:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

I’d never lammed it from the cops before, but I figured now was the time to learn how. It wasn’t so hard. They were in a car, so they had to go around street blocks while I could ride through them, and after some quick turns, a few cut corners, and a couple counts of trespassing through fenceless backyards, they were nowhere to be seen. No sweat. The difficult part was getting home after I’d ditched them, because since the cops were nowhere to be seen, I had no clue where they might be.

That meant being extra careful, making a lot of unnecessary turns, stopping every once in a while behind a parked truck or a hedge and peeking out from behind to take the lay of the land, and more backtracking than anyone who wasn’t actually lost should ever admit to doing. It wasn’t that I was afraid of getting picked up and questioned by the cops—I’d been through it before and knew the routine, and as far as Saturday night was concerned, I had a rock-solid alibi by the name of Pauline. No, my motives for bolting were nobler than that. If the public pork hauled me down to the station house for a session with a klieg light and a rubber hose, sooner or later they’d have to call mom, and after the warning she’d given me this morning, that would pretty much ruin not only her mood and her day, but also the rest of my summer. So it seemed wiser to avoid them and spare her the unneeded trouble.

When I finally got home, I chained the Cruiser to the back porch, quietly though, and gave the outside of the house a thorough inspection—staying low, peeking through the windows, keeping my ears open for the slightest sound—because I still wasn’t too stoked to meet up with Neecey the Narc if she was home. I circled the house twice, once in each direction, and found the coast was clear. She was out—big fucking surprise—so I went inside and headed for my room.

I needed to check a couple of facts in my journal. More specifically, I thought I remembered Darren saying that he’d been with most of the crew on Saturday night, instead of all of the crew, or just the crew, when we’d spoken on Monday. And that’s what I was after, confirmation, something small but concrete to let me know I was on the right track. It wouldn’t exactly blow the case wide open, but if Darren had said it, it would at least strengthen my theory of what had actually gone down.

I sat Thrash on my wooden desk chair, put my backpack in the closet, shut the door, and stepped back over to my desk. I was just about to open the top drawer when I caught the smug grin darkening Thrash’s face. Yeah, I’d seen that look before, plenty of times, but I’d never found it very appealing. It was the face he saved

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