Free Flesh Gothic by Edward Lee by Edward Lee Page B

ice clink. I like to sniff it. It clears my head." He smiled
at the glass. "It's my abstraction. It's my crystal ball."
    "It's interesting that you should say that. One of the people at the house is a crystal gazer," she said.
    .. p"
Re
    "Perhaps she has her self-rituals too." Karen twirled a
finger in her drink, then pointed to Westmore's scotch.
"Have you ever seen the future in it?"
    "Not now But I used to. I used to look in these glasses of
eight-dollar hooch, and see my death. Right outside by the
bus stop there's a homeless bum. He looks like he's rotting.
I used to see a guy like that a lot in my future."
    "Well, that's cool. I can control it, though. I'm not an alcoholic. I believe that anything in moderation makes you a
better person."
    Baby, YOU'RE an alcoholic, he thought when he saw her
finish the martini. "There's no such thing as moderation,
not for me. The clinical addiction rate for alcohol is about
fifteen percent. I'm one of those fifteen."
    She looked away wistfully. "A false romanticism, though,
right? Like Hemingway? All creative people have a demon
that's more powerful than them."
    "That's an interesting observation."
    "And let me guess. You're a drinker with a writing
problem."
    Westmore smiled. "Hey, that's a great line!"
    She ordered another martini. "Blue cheese in the olive
this time," she said rather testily to the keep. Then, to Westmore: "I'm glad you can refrain from temptation. You're
going to need that power."

    Westmore sniffed his drink. Sharp vapors titillated him.
"Where? At the house? Or, excuse me, the Hildreth Mansion?"
    She didn't say anything. She just smiled to the mirror behind the liquor shelves.
    Westmore ordered a dozen oysters on the half-shell, then
pegged her, "So you guys put a tail on me, hired an investigator? Can't imagine how else you'd know that I used to
come to this bar, that I always order a Dewar's and don't
drink it, and the name of my local hangout."
    "Of course we did," she said. "Vivica is a cautious person. She's also a determined one."
    Westmore remained quietly bewildered. The herbal scent
of her hair kept drifting over, distracting him. It's a good
thing I like puzzles, he thought. When his plate of oysters arrived, Karen smiled and said, "Is there something you're not
telling me?"

    "Oysters. It's true what they say."
    "Oh, yeah?"
    "Yeah." She snorted a laugh. "They make me horny as
fuck."
    The abruptness of that particular word jolted him. It
didn't sound right coming out of the mouth of someone he
perceived as a stiff, proper business woman. Even stranger
was that after she'd made the comment, she returned to sipping her drink and looking straight ahead. I guess I better not
offer her some, he thought as a joke. Instead, he sucked a few
down and said, "It's probably all just psychological."
    "You don't know the meaning of the word psychological
until you spend a night in that house. The place will ... make
you take a good, long look at yourself"
    "I don't know what you're talking about but I guess I'll find out tomorrow. So you'll be picking me up? I'd take a
cab but I don't know where the place is."

    "I'll find you." She turned and leaned over, reaching for
something on the floor. Westmore looked at the wide tan
thighs spreading the black skirt, the dip of the obviously
implanted breasts as gravity pitched them forward. This is
one hell of a day for innuendo. First, Vvica practically comes on to
me, and now I've got this sexual fireplug getting hammered and
talking about oysters as aphrodisiacs.
    She handed him a small briefcase. "Here's some info on
the victims, if you could call them that. Resumes and stage
photos, police reports-mostly drug-related-and autopsy
reports. They're all pretty much the same."
    "And most of the victims were-"
    "Porn stars, yes. Two men, the rest women-all very attractive. Mr. Hildreth liked to surround himself with what
he called `positive visual energy.' That's why he bought
T&T