Tricky Business Read Online Free PDF Page A

restraining hand on his shoulder. “Boys, boys,” he said. “Can’t we all just get along?”
    â€œNot with that prick,” said Juan.
    â€œNo,” agreed Tark.
    â€œI didn’t think so,” said Frank. “But we have to get along for a little while. Big job tonight. After that, we get back, everything’s put away nice, then you boys can kill each other, OK?”
    â€œI’m ready,” said Tark, staring at Juan.
    â€œAnytime, asshole,” said Juan, staring back.
    â€œThat’s the spirit!” said Frank. “Kumbaya. We’ll be back at six.”
    â€œI’ll be here,” said Tark.
    â€œIf you need us,” said Frank, “we’re at the inn.”
    â€œI won’t need you,” said Tark. “Fact is, I could do this whole thing without you. You and puking Pancho just get in the way out there.”
    â€œAh, but we’d miss you, Tark,” said Frank. “Your smiling face, your sparkling wit.”
    â€œBite me,” said Tark.
    â€œSee?” said Frank. “Sparkling. Bye for now, Tark.”
    Frank and Juan turned and headed back toward the village. When they’d gone about twenty yards, Juan said, “I hate that prick. Why do we gotta use him? Why can’t we use some other boat? Plenty of boats around here.”
    â€œTell you the truth,” said Frank, “I don’t know why we use him. I just do what they tell me, and they tell me, use Tark.”
    Juan shook his head. “I don’t trust him.”
    â€œMe either,” said Frank. “That’s why we watch each other’s back tonight, right?”
    â€œOK,” said Juan. Then: “I hate that prick.”
    Back on the boat, still holding the knife, Tark watched the two men recede in the rain. A voice spoke to him from inside the cabin.
    â€œThat’s the guys?” it said.
    â€œThat’s them,” said Tark.
    â€œBig one looks like a handful,” said the voice.
    â€œHe won’t be no problem,” said Tark. “Rough seas like this, a boat can jerk around a lot, ’specially if you steer it wrong. I’ll make it easy.”
    â€œWhat about the little one?” said the voice.
    Tark, looking down at his knife, said, “You leave the spic to me.”
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    FAY BENTON WAS STARTLED FROM SLEEP BY A 27-pound weight thumping down on her abdomen.
    â€œBear!” said the weight. “Bear! Bear!”
    â€œOK, honey,” said Fay. “But first Mommy has to go potty.”
    She sat up, wrapped her arms around her daughter, Estelle, age two, got out of bed, and went into the bathroom. She set Estelle gently on the floor and sat on the toilet.
    â€œMommy potty,” said Estelle.
    â€œThat’s right,” said Fay. “Mommy’s going potty.”
    â€œPeepee,” said Estelle, hearing the tinkle.
    â€œPeepee,” agreed Fay.
    â€œIt smells like smoke in here,” said Fay’s mother, appearing in the doorway.
    â€œMother, do you mind ?” said Fay, pushing the door closed.
    â€œBear!” said Estelle. “Bear! Bear! Bear!”
    â€œIn a minute, honey,” said Fay. “Mommy’s going potty.”
    â€œPeepee,” said Estelle.
    â€œHave you been smoking?” said Fay’s mother, through the door. “Because I smell smoke.”
    â€œNo, I haven’t been smoking,” said Fay. “The people on the boat smoke, and it gets in my clothes.” She wiped, flushed, stood.
    â€œBye-bye, peepee!” said Estelle, waving to the swirling water.
    â€œThat secondhand smoke can kill you,” said Fay’s mother.
    â€œBear!” said Estelle. “Bear! Bear! Bear! Bear! Bear!”
    â€œOK, honey,” said Fay. “We’ll go see the bear.” She opened the bathroom door.
    â€œYou look terrible,” her mother said.
    â€œThanks, Mom,” said Fay. “I got to sleep at