Saving Room for Dessert by K. C. Constantine

Author:K. C. Constantine [CONSTANTINE, K. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780446561082
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2009-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

SWOMETIMES FOR a cop compassion is a terrible thing—when did James say that? Why’s that important? Why’d I think of that? ’Cause of the Scavellis or ’cause of those got-damn tests he’s always tryin’ to get me to take. No it’s not, it’s the got-damn Scavellis. Question is, were they fucked-up before their kids died? Or are they fucked-up because their kids died? And how the fuck am I supposed to know that? And what difference does it make anyway? If it slows you down when you have to bust a move, then James is right, compassion is a terrible thing for a cop. ’Cause when Scavelli got a shovel full of dog shit and is heading for the Hlebecs’ house, what does it matter his kids died in a fire he started? Then is then, now is now, and no matter how bad I feel for him, I still got to stop his ass.

Oh man, I got to stop thinking ’bout the Scavellis. Hear that shit about that fire, their kids, all I see is my kid. Now how can your mind get so fucked-up so fast you hear about somebody else’s kids dyin’ in a fire and what you see is your kid fallin’ out the smoke and flames—how the fuck does that happen? What shit goes on in your mind to make that picture? There was no fire when my kid … no fire when he fell. Just my ignorant-ass, ugly-ass, voodoo-believin’ MIL. James tell me how he wanna go down the old country run over that cracker, he thinks I can’t appreciate that shit. He don’t know how many times I wanna throw my motherfuckin’ MIL out the window. Aw, fuck he don’t, told him enough times. Why else he always be tryin’ to get me to take those McGraw tests?

McGraw. Help McGraw take a bite outta your mind. Oughta make a commercial outta that shit. Hi. McGraw here. And I need your help to take a bite outta yo’ mind. All y’all needs to do is read my book, life’s little strategies, doin’ what works, doin’ what matters. And be sure’n catch me on Oprah every Tuesday where I take a bite outta her mind and anybody else’s mind wantsa sit there and be humiliated on national TV, tell the world how fucked-up they are. I’m humiliated when there’s just me, Charmane, and the marriage counselor in the room. Let thirty million people in on how many pieces my shit is in? Not in this life….

Rayford reached into his briefcase and found the steno notebook he’d bought for just this purpose, to take McGraw’s tests and “be surprised,” according to Reseta, “what you can learn about yourself.”

Rayford had read just far enough into the book to get to the second test. He ran into a wall on that one, so he backed up to the first test and said maybe he really did have to write the answers down to see whether he was bullshitting himself or not.

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