Serial Uncut - J. A. Konrath [14]
“Are you working on a new book?” Orson asked.
“Yeah, I am actually.” Orson was right. Lucy saw Bryson beginning to come alive as he talked about himself.
“Can you tell me anything about it?” Orson asked.
“Well, it’s a sequel to Against the Law.”
“Oh, fantastic.”
“You know how Rodriguez died at the end?”
“Yeah, sure. That was so heartbreaking.”
“Well, he’s not really dead.”
“No kidding?”
“And he’s back and pissed off and looking for revenge.”
“I can’t wait to read it. Look, Mr. Bryson—”
“Please, Richard.”
“Richard, my name’s Vincent Carmichael, and I’m a freelance reviewer. I do stuff for Kirkus, Booklist, Publishers Weekly. I would love to do an interview with you and pitch it to PW or Kirkus. I think they’d be all over it.”
“That’d be great.”
“Do you have some time right now?”
“Um, sure.”
“What do you say we go up to my room? My recorder is up there and we can see what happens. By the way, this is my niece, Michelle.”
“Hi, Michelle.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bryson,” Lucy said.
Bryson pulled out his wallet. “Let me just pay for my beer.”
“Get out of here.” Orson pulled a five dollar bill from his pocket and tossed it on the bar. “It is so good to finally meet you, Rich.”
He patted the man on the shoulder and pulled him away from the bar.
As they rode up in the elevator, Lucy marveled at the persona Orson had adopted: an attentive, personable book reviewer who was utterly fascinated with the life and work of Richard Bryson. She didn’t know how he controlled himself, because as the doors opened and they walked off the car onto the fourteenth floor, her body was beginning to buzz with anticipation.
At last, they reached the door to 1428, and Lucy pulled the keycard out of her pocket, her hands trembling.
She swiped the card as Bryson said, “You should ask me about my publishing company, too. I hate the big New York publishers, so I’ve decided to…” He stopped talking as Lucy pushed the door open, and she knew exactly why. A subdued but foul odor seeped out of the room into the hallway.
“After you, Rich,” Orson said. He was glancing up and down the hallway, which for the moment, was empty.
Bryson hesitantly entered the hotel room and Lucy and Orson followed after him. Lucy heard the subtle click of Orson locking the door.
“My goodness,” Bryson said. “Smells like something died in here.”
“You can smell that?” Orson said. They had all passed the closed bathroom door and now stood in the dark bedroom. “It must be that sandwich half I threw away last night. It sure went bad quickly.”
Bryson took off his sports jacket. “Do you mind if I use your restroom before we get started? That beer is moving right through me.”
“Of course. Right through that door.”
Lucy stood next to Orson, watching Bryson disappear into the bathroom.
“Where’s Luther?” she asked.
“About to have some Luther fun.”
She could see the light come on under the door, the sounds of Bryson shuffling around inside.
“Orson?”
“Shhh,” he whispered. “Let’s just enjoy this moment together.”
Bryson said, “Oh God!”
Something crashed to the floor, and through the door came the sound of a desperate struggle, something banging into cabinets and walls, and then the meaty thud of hard punches.
Bryson went quiet, but there was still movement inside the bathroom. After a minute, the door opened, and Luther walked out smiling.
“Come see,” he said.
Lucy hurried over to the open door.
Bryson lay unconscious on the floor, hog-tied with zip-ties, and a ball-gag in his mouth.
“Nice work, Luther,” she said.
“You should’ve seen his face. He sat down on the toilet to take a dump, and just as he was starting to notice all the blood, I swept the shower curtain back and had Mark Darling waving to him. Good thing he was on the toilet, ’cause he shit.”
“Can I have my straight razor back?” Lucy said.
Orson glanced down at her. “Of course. But you know we aren’t just going to kill him right away.”
“Why not?”
He smiled. “Sweet, Lucy. So much to learn.”
Richard opened his eyes fifteen minutes later, naked