N9ne: The Tale of Kevin Clearwater (King, #9)(58)

“Wow, you’re a strange kid. You know that?” Preppy says, shaking his head. He gets up and heads down the hallway to tend to the twins.

“I’m a strange kid?” I shout after him.

I sigh, and my thoughts turn to what happened today with Lenny at the seawall. It felt like a breakthrough. And then I think about what almost happened until my phone alerted me with a reminder that I had to be in court.

Bo comes running into the house from the backyard and crashes into me. His watermelon of a head feels even bigger when it connects directly with my balls. “Bo, what’s up, buddy?” I grit out through the pain.

He looks up at me with his dark hair and pale face wearing the same bow-tie and suspenders set that Preppy has on. He smiles, and it’s downright Adams Family creepy. “I see dead people,” he whispers. For a kid that used to not talk he now makes a point of saying some very strange shit.

“You got to start going to sleep earlier and stop watching all those late-night movies you know you’re not supposed to be watching.”

Bo grabs my arm and drags me to the sliding glass doors. He points to the backyard. “No, seriously, though. There’s a body in the backyard. Look.”

I look out to see a mangled clump of naked man directly in the center of the yard.

“Holy shit. You’re right.” My mind is racing and in full alert mode.

“Told you,” Bo says, skipping off to the kitchen. “You want a cookie, Uncle Kevin?”

“Uh, not right now, but save one for me. And can you go ask your dad to come out here? Like, right the fuck now?”

“Sure thing,” he says around a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie as he strolls leisurely down the hall. “Dad, Uncle Kevin wants to talk to you about the dead guy in the back yard. Right the fuck now!”

I step out into the yard, swatting away the flies colliding into my face with each step. As I get closer I notice a large red tattoo on the dead man’s back. No, it’s not a tattoo. Paint, maybe? It’s not until I’m up close when I can make out that’s it’s a message written in blood.

It’s a number. And not just any number.

It’s the number nine.

And the body? It’s missing it’s fucking head.

Preppy joins me outside. “Any clue who the corpse is?” he asks, crouching down beside me.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s Jared’s business partner, Sheff. The owner of the head left in Lenny’s bed.”

“Fuck me sideways,” Preppy whistles, but his words are all garbled. I look over, and he’s got a mouth full of cookies.

Bo steps out from beside him, his own mouth full of cookies. “Been dead about two days, by my guess,” he says, “The redness of the blood pooled under the skin of his chest means that he’s probably been kept face first somewhere before being moved here.”

“Makes sense,” I say considering we found his head not three days ago. “But how do you know that, kid? And why are you out here?”

Bo shrugs. “Doesn’t everyone know that? And I’m out here because you and Dad told me not to come, so naturally, I’m curious. Plus, I’m nine years old. Listening isn’t a strong point for kids of my age.”

Preppy ruffles Bo’s hair. “Go back inside, Bo. I’ve got to get rid of this situation before your sisters see it. Then, we can go to the skate park after your mom gets home.”

“I didn’t know you skate,” I say to Bo.

He wipes the crumbs from his hands on his pants. “I don’t. I just like to sit at the top of the ramp and watch people fall.” He skips back inside.

“Since the head was at Lenny’s and the body is here with Nine written on the back, I think it’s safe to say that he’s made the connection between the two of you and knows that you have her.” Preppy points out. “Am I right to assume that you’re not about to turn Lenny over for a little chat?”

“Not a chance fucking in hell, brother,” I grate.

“I figured, on the account of you being in love with her and all.”

“What?” I reply, standing up. “That doesn’t matter right now. Ricci’s people would torture her, and when she can’t tell them what they want to hear, they’ll kill her anyway. I’ve got to get a message to them. One that Tico Ricci will hopefully understand.”

“Understand? Tico? I hope that you’re right, but you better get that message out quick, brother,” Preppy holds his nose. “And this body. It stinks so bad it’s almost killing my appetite.” He shoves another cookie in his mouth while still holding his nose. “How you planning on explaining shit to him. Email? Stripper-gram? I’ve recently discovered that balloon bouquets are quite popular.”

“The only way I can get a message to him that he actually might listen to.” I crack my knuckles. “In person.”





By the time I pull up to the RV, I’ve sent a message to Tico by way of every encrypted email and phone number he’s ever been known to use requesting a face-to-face.

Now, I wait.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and step back inside my RV where I pause when I find a stranger standing in my kitchen with her back to me. Only, she’s not a stranger. She’s from the past. The same light white-blonde hair to her shoulders on one side and slightly shorter on the other. She’s wearing an off-the-shoulder, slouchy baby blue shirt over a short white denim skirt and plain white tennis shoes.