Triptych (Will Trent #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,117

the way the prick receptionist had leered at her when she walked in the front door. That knowing look on his face like she was just a hole he was going to fuck. By the time she got to room three-ten, she felt about two feet tall.

“Hello?” she called, knocking on the door. Over the blare of the television, she heard a pleasant kind of grunt that she took as an invitation to come in.

“Ehn,” Ken said when he saw her, his mouth curved up on one side as he tried to smile. He had lost about sixty pounds sitting in his wheelchair, and she wondered how he managed to wake up every morning knowing this was the life he had to look forward to.

“Remember me?” Angie asked.

He gave a deep, knowing laugh, as if to say, “How could I forget?”

Angie pulled a chair over and sat across from him. Ken fumbled with the remote in his lap, trying to mute the television. She hated nursing homes almost as much as she hated hospitals, and here she was visiting both in the same day. The chemical stench of disinfectant, the white sheets and flickering lights, reminded her of the first time she had seen her mother after the overdose. Deidre had been lying in bed, her body completely still, her mouth hanging open as if she had been surprised to find herself here. Irreversible coma. Angie was only a kid, but between General Hospital and Days of Our Lives, she knew exactly what that meant: baby, you are fucked.

“Deh,” Ken said. He had finally managed to mute the television.

Angie tried to sound cheerful. “How you been?”

One shoulder went up. He’d certainly been better.

“Stupid question, huh?”

Ken allowed a smile on the side of his face that he could control.

“You can’t talk well?”

“S’bad,” he admitted.

“I’m here about Michael Ormewood.”

He looked at the silent television for a couple of minutes. Finally, he blew out a puff of air.

Angie cut to the chase. “I know he’s an asshole, so you don’t have to bother telling me that.”

Ken nodded.

“Did you know he beats his wife?”

Shock flickered in his eyes.

“Guess not,” Angie said. “I saw her this morning. She looks like he took a bat to her.”

His jaw set and his good hand clenched in his lap. Still a cop, even though he probably couldn’t go to the toilet without someone there to wipe his ass.

Angie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I know you didn’t like him. Why? What was it about him that you didn’t like?”

He blew out a noisy stream of air in answer.

Angie shook her head. “I’m not following.”

He blew out some more air.

“Oh,” she said, finally getting it. “Hot air. He’s full of hot air.”

Ken nodded, excited, and she felt like she was playing a painful game of charades.

Still, she couldn’t stop now. “When Michael worked Vice,” she confided, “he was taking advantage of the girls.”

Ken shrugged.

“Is that a ‘what do you expect’ shrug or an ‘I’m not surprised’ shrug?”

He looked at his hand in his lap, the index and middle finger slowly pointing up to show it was the second choice. I’m not surprised.

“I told him to leave or I’d report him, so he left.”

“An ah ga…” His mouth closed. She could see he hated trying to talk. “Ah gah hih.”

“Yeah,” she said. Michael had been assigned as Ken’s partner. “You got him.”

They both sat there, Ken’s mouth working but no noises coming out. Angie tried to keep her face blank, tried not to let on how hard it was seeing him like this.

Finally, he said, “You,” clear enough for anyone to understand him.

“You what?”

He just stared, and Angie realized he was looking straight down her shirt. She straightened up, laughing. “Jesus, Wozniak. You old poon hound.”

“Nah.” He waved her off with his hand. “Nah dah.” He glanced around the room as if he needed a prop. Finally, he looked back at his hands. She watched as he forced his right index finger straight out, then made a circle with his left thumb and index finger. He slid the circle up and down the finger.

Angie crossed her arms. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nah,” he insisted. No.

“Yeah,” she snapped, duplicating the fucking gesture with her own hands. “I got you, Ken. I know exactly what you’re saying and I gotta say I’m impressed you still got it, but no way in hell is it gonna happen.”

“You!” he yelled back, jabbing an angry finger at her. “Ma-ahl.” He

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