Read Day of the Dead for Free Online Page B

but as she focused on the pig’s snout, a part of her noted that it was a compelling image, with the flies around its eye sockets, the beer bottle next to it, the television in the background. As bland as the room was, the pig’s head was the only thing that really drew your eye.
    Still Life with Pig Head and Beer Bottle,
Michelle thought, adjusting the depth of field, taking another shot, then the angle, shooting again. She almost laughed. All this time in Puerto Vallarta, and she’d finally found a good picture.
    â€˜What … ?’
    She dropped the camera against her chest.
    â€˜What the
fuck
?’
    Daniel stood there in the doorway.
    â€˜I …’
    In two strides he’d crossed to the coffee table. ‘What the
fuck
is this?’
    His fingers dug into her arm, just beneath her bicep. ‘You … Who told you to do this?’
    â€˜What are you talking about?’
    She stared at his face: rigid and white with anger.
    â€˜I have some of your things,’ she said. ‘I just came here and saw this. I thought …’
    â€˜Who told you where I live?’
    â€˜Gary,’ she said. ‘Please let go of me.’
    â€˜Gary?’ He released her arm with a jerk. ‘How do you know Gary?’
    â€˜I met him at the Tiburón,’ Michelle said. ‘I didn’t know how to get a hold of you. Gary gave me your address.’
    â€˜Why didn’t you just call?’ The anger had not diminished, only retreated.
    â€˜I have your phone.’ She started to reach into her purse, and instantly he tensed again, not with anger this time but something cold and predatory.
    She froze. God, did he think she had a gun?
    â€˜Check yours,’ she said. ‘I think it’s mine.’
    He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out an iPhone. Black. He powered it up. ‘Shit,’ he said after a moment. ‘It … it was off. I just left it that way.’
    â€˜For two days?’
    â€˜I wanted to get some rest and not have people fucking calling me.’
    â€˜So can we trade phones now?’ She felt a rush of anger. ‘You’re not going to … to attack me?’
    â€˜Sorry. I’m …’ He lifted his hand to his forehead, winced. His head was shaved where he’d been cut, a patch between crown and temple covered with a square of gauze. ‘Fucking Gary.’ He attempted a smile. ‘This is probably his idea of a joke.’
    â€˜A joke?’ The buzzing of the flies, the smell of rot, the close, shut-in heat of the apartment made her suddenly dizzy. ‘I need some air.’
    She pushed past Daniel and sat down on one of the chairs on the balcony, let her head fall into her hands.
    â€˜You okay?’
    â€˜Fine.’ She raised her head. ‘What kind of joke is that?’
    â€˜A stupid one.’ Daniel sat down in the chair next to her. ‘He knew I checked into a hotel for a few days. Air conditioner’s busted here, and I felt pretty lousy. Figured I’d let somebody bring me food and make my bed.’
    There was something he wasn’t saying, something that didn’t fit, but Michelle couldn’t think of what it was.
    â€˜You want a beer? I think there’s a couple cold ones in the fridge.’
    He sounded friendly enough, but the way he looked at her, studying her face – was that concern or something else?
    â€˜That’s okay. I think I’d better go.’
    â€˜No, listen, stay a minute. You had a shock. Let me get you a beer.’
    He got up before she could object.
    By the time Daniel had returned with the beers, bottles already sweating in the heat, she’d figured it out. ‘Why me?’
    â€˜Huh?’ Daniel handed her a bottle. Bohemia. She’d had that a few times in Los Angeles.
    â€˜If he was playing a joke on you, why did he send
me
up here to find it?’
    â€˜He’s an asshole.’
    â€˜He