Free A Garden of Vipers by Jack Kerley

her. She slapped his face so hard it sounded like a gunshot. No one else seemed to notice or care.
    A black stretch limo rolled into view. The family grouped together as the chauffeur emerged to open the doors. The black beast pulled from the curb. I saw an impenetrably dark window roll down. A male face, contorted in anger, yelled, “Get a life, asshole.”
    The curtain fell.
    Â 
    It was almost midnight when our driver returned us to Dani’s, the night drenched with haze and lit by moon glow, the air perfumed with dogwood and magnolia. Arms linked, we walked to the porch as a night bird sang from the eaves. She shook her keys free of her purse, opened the door. The cool, clean air felt good after sharing the exhalations of three hundred others for two hours. I looked at her phone, a red LED blinking.
    â€œYou’ve got a message.”
    She went to the kitchen to rattle the lock at the back door, the habitual checks of a woman living alone. “Probably Laurel Hollings twitting me for the speech. He does that kind of thing when he’s had a few. Punch it on while I look out back.”
    I heard the kitchen door open, the screen slam, as she went out to check the back porch door. I tossed my jacket into a chair, walked to the phone, pressed MESSAGE .
    â€œIt was great to see you this evening, dear DeeDee. I meant everything I said about the bright future. And by the way, that red dress was fantastic. I’ll talk to you soon.”
    Four hours earlier I wouldn’t have recognized the voice. But now I did.
    Buck Kincannon.
    I closed my eyes and wondered what to do, then diddled with the reset button on the phone. Dani returned a minute later. I stood in front of the hall mirror, fiddling with the button on the vest.
    â€œCrap,” I snarled.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe button’s snagged. Wrapped in a thread.”
    She looked at the phone, the display blinking like it had never been touched.
    â€œYou didn’t check the phone?” she asked.
    I glared at the button. “If I tear the damn button off they’ll probably charge me thirty bucks. There still scissors in the bathroom?”
    She nodded and I hustled to the john, closed the door. I stood in the dark with my racing heart as she checked her message. My straining ears caught Buck Kincannon’s voice again roaming through Dani’s house.
    It was a business call, I told myself; Buck Kincannon was the capo di tutti capo of the Kincannon family and Clarity Broadcasting. He probably called all the station’s speech givers, made them feel part of the team. It was just business.
    I returned a couple minutes later, vest in hand. Dani was in the kitchen moving dishes from the dishwasher to her shelves.
    â€œCan’t that wait until tomorrow?” I asked.
    She shrugged; put on a smile. “Just felt like doing something. Excess energy or whatever.”
    â€œThe message, was it your jokester from the station?”
    Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine; she turned and slid a dish into place, spoke into the cupboard. “Nothing important. A friend wanting to talk when I have a chance.”
    That night we lay in her bed, but neither made motions toward making love. Lightning flashed at the windows and filled the room with shadows, but rain never came. Just past dawn I arose without waking her, penciled a note explaining that I had a busy day, and fled into a day already breathless with heat.

CHAPTER 13
    Harry shoved aside a file of forms on his desktop, set a new stack in its place. He paused and stared at me.
    â€œYou all right, Cars?”
    â€œSure, Harry. Why?”
    â€œYou’ve said maybe three words since you got in this morning. How was the big kick-up for Channel 14? Dancing and prancing with the swells? That was this weekend, right?”
    â€œIt was fine.”
    I realized if I didn’t go into detail, Harry’s antennae would register my distress. I gave a brief synopsis of the