Read O Is for Outlaw for Free Online Page B

said, his mood becoming morose.
    I made the usual skeptical response. "I wouldn't go that far, Henry. You have beautiful teeth."
    "I'd rather keep 'em in a glass. I can't stand the drilling. The noise drives me crazy. And the scraping when they scale? I nearly rip the arms off the chair. Sounds like a shovel on a sidewalk, a pickax on concrete, "
    "All right! Cut it out. You're making my hands sweat. "
    By the time I pulled into the parking lot, we'd worked ourselves into such a state of indignation, I was surprised he was willing to keep the appointment. I sat in the dentist's waiting room after Henry's name was called. Except for the receptionist, I had the place to myself, which I thought was faintly worrisome. How come the dentist only had one patient? I pictured Medicaid fraud: phantom clients, double-billing, charges for work that would never be done. just a typical day in the life of Dr. Dentifrice, federal con artist and cheater with a large sadistic streak. I did give the guy points for having recent issues of all the best magazines.
    From the other room, over the burbling of the fish tank, which is meant to mask the shrieks, I could hear the sounds of a high-speed drill piercing through tooth enamel straight to the pulsing nerve below. My fingers began to stick to the pages of People magazine, leaving a series of moist, round prints. Once in a while, I caught Henry's muffled protest, a sound suggestive of flinching and lots of blood gushing out. Just the thought of his suffering made me hyperventilate. I finally got so light-headed I had to step outside, where I sat on the mini-porch with my head between my knees.
    Henry eventually emerged, looking stricken and relieved, feeling at his numbed lip to see if he was drooling on himself. To distract him on the ride home, I filled him in on the cardboard box, the circumstances under which it originated, Mickey's paranoia, the John Russell alias, and my own B & E adventure at Ted Rich's place. He liked the part about the dog, having urged me repeatedly to get one of my own. We had the usual brief argument about me and household pets.
    Then he said, "So, tell me about your ex. You said he was a cop, but what's, the rest of it?"
    "Don't ask."
    "But what do you think it means, his being delinquent with his storage fees?"
    "How do I know? I haven't talked to him in years."
    "Don't be like that, Kinsey. I hate it when you're stingy with information. I want the story on him."
    "It's too complicated to get into. Maybe I'll tell you later, when I've figured it out."
    "Are you going to follow up?"
    "No."
    "Maybe he got lazy about paying his bills," he said, trying to draw me in.
    "I doubt it. He was always good about that stuff."
    "People change."
    "No, they don't. Not in my experience."
    "Nor in mine, now you mention it."
    The two of us were silent for a block, and then Henry spoke up. "Suppose he's in trouble?"
    "Serves him right if he is."
    "You wouldn't help?"
    :'What for?"
    'Well, it wouldn't hurt to check."
    "I'm not going to do that."
    "Why not? All it'd take is a couple of calls. What's it going to cost?"
    "How do you know what it'd cost? You don't even know the man."
    "I'm just saying, you're not busy, at least, as far as I've heard."
    "Did I ask for advice?"
    "I thought you did," he said. "I'm nearly certain you were fishing for encouragement."
    "I was not."
    I see."
    "Well, I wasn't. I have absolutely no interest in the man."
    "Sorry. My mistake."
    "You're the only person in my life who gets away with this shit."
    When I got back to my desk, the first thing my eye fell on was my address book lying open to the M's. I flipped the book shut and shoved it in a drawer, which I closed with a bang.

Chapter 4
----
    I sat down in my swivel chair and gave the carton a shove with my foot. I was tempted to chuck the damn thing, salvage the personal papers and dump the rest in the trash. However, having paid the twenty bucks, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It wasn't so much that