BooksBarbecue
Back The Lying House Save as PDF
Chapters (103)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. Epilogue
  102. Acknowledgments and a Personal Note
  103. Excerpt

“Bullshit. You stole my work and used it to get this promotion and the campaign. I want you to go to Leland Slaughter and Foster Shore and tell them the truth—that I created the brilliant concepts that you presented. And then I want you to demand they hire me for a position here.”

“Leave.”

“I need this to happen, and it will happen.”

Staring at her, Jeff felt she was unbalanced. “You need help, Vida.”

She reached into her bag for her phone, swiped the screen, held up pictures.

“You’ve got a nice house in Palm Mirage Creek,” she said, “and a nice wife—Lisa, as I recall. You know, Jeff, when you slip into the gutter like I did, you meet all kinds of people with all kinds of connections willing to help you for a little quid pro quo, you know, a little something for something. Oh, here she is.” She held a picture of Lisa running near their house. “Pretty.”

The muscles under Jeff’s jawline began to spasm.

“And it’s too bad about your little burglary.”

Jeff stared, surprised that she knew.

“Your neighbors post things online.” She smiled. “Besides, you forget, I know all about you. What you’re really like. And you know what else I have in here?” Vida patted her phone, then typed a quick message before slipping it back into her bag. “The truth. I don’t think you’d want me to share it with Lisa, or anybody really. But I will if I have to.”

Jeff’s expression was devoid of emotion. Glaring at Vida, something inside was on the verge of erupting. Then his smartphone pinged.

“There,” Vida stood, moving close enough for him to smell her perfume. “You’ve got my contact info, and I’ve got yours. I’ll give you one week to make things right, Jeff. If you don’t, then I’ll tell everyone everything.”

29

The toothpick in the corner of Lex Prewitt’s mouth moved up and down as he studied the documents on the counter.

It was a search warrant concerning Clete Younger Loften, the current tenant in unit 45 at the Oceanwave Gardens, a motel residence in Allapattah, of which Prewitt was manager.

Prewitt scratched his stubbled chin, then his belly, which stretched the stained Marlins’ T-shirt he wore.

“Come on, Lex,” Detective Reddick said as he and Detective Cruz looked around at the tiny lobby with its duct-taped chairs, figuring they’d likely been damaged in a brawl among hookers, pimps or other people who frequented the establishment. “This can’t be the first warrant executed here.”

“First one this month,” Prewitt grunted, then reached under the counter.

Reflexively, Reddick and Cruz stiffened, ready to reach for their weapons, until Prewitt produced a key with a cracked tag. It bore a strip of masking tape with #45 in blue ballpoint pen.

“This way.”