Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,48
tolerance for bad, but everybody has his limits.
But I couldn’t afford to fall apart while Vic still needed me. I made myself take slow, deep breaths and splashed cold water on my face.
It helped, and then I dressed. The shirt I’d grabbed without looking at anything but the L on the tag was black with green marijuana leaves on it. I made sure it covered the automatic, then went back out into the store.
As soon as I did, I spotted the two Latino teenagers who were waiting for me. One had a 5 in a five-pointed star tattooed on his left forearm. They both had their left shoes untied.
That wasn’t enough to tell me what gang they belonged to—not that I really cared—but it did show they were in one that was part of People Nation. You learn to recognize your fellow criminals when you’re a lawbreaker yourself, even a harmless one like me.
I almost couldn’t blame them for what they had in mind. A crazy-looking guy waving a big roll of bills around? It must have seemed like Christmas had come early.
And maybe it had, but not the way they thought. I fixed my eyes on them and walked right over. Something they saw in my face made their hard expressions soften.
“It’s like this,” I said. “If you try to rob me, I will hurt you bad. But I’ll give you money if you’ve got a car. I’ll pay five hundred bucks for a ride to Ybor City.”
The kids exchanged glances. Then the one with the tattoo said, “I got a car.”
It turned out to be an ’87 Grand Prix with suicide doors and a chain-link steering wheel. Even stressed as I was, the sight of it made me smile. I wasn’t into low-riders, but still, it was somebody’s special, customized pride and joy, and I appreciated it for that. Maybe catching a ride in it was a sign my luck was turning.
Okay, probably not. But I got in anyway.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I considered spirit traveling to scout out Rhonda’s store. But I didn’t want to waste the mojo, and I was scared of getting sucked into another magical dimension or psychic world or whatever I was supposed to call them. I also didn’t trust my little posse in the Grand Prix to deliver on their end of our deal if I zoned out.
So instead, I had them drive around a little while I hunched down low and looked out the window. Eventually I spotted a guy loitering in the mouth of an alley, where he could watch one approach to Rhonda’s place. Like with some of the people on the Tuxedo Team, you couldn’t point to any one feature that marked him as absolutely, positively not human. But put them all together, and the effect just wasn’t right. He had too much face from the nostrils on down, and not enough above.
I had the kids drop me off by the other end of the alley. “Good luck, man,” said the one with the star. He’d figured out that I was involved in something serious.
“Thanks,” I said as I climbed out. “Don’t do drugs. Stay in school.”
He snorted a laugh, and then he and his buddy pulled away.
I waited a few seconds in case the sentry heard the low-rider and glanced around. Then, wishing it wasn’t still broad daylight, I sneaked down the alley, past loading docks, dumpsters, and a couple parked cars.
I told you, I’m good at sneaking. The sentry didn’t hear me until I said, “Don’t move. I’ve got a gun.”
He froze, and I patted him down with my off hand. I may have been kind of awkward about it. But the Army had also taught me the basics of securing a prisoner, and I found the Baby Glock 27 in his pocket. First Georgie, now him. I wondered if Frodo would have made it to the volcano if the orcs had been packing heat.
“Okay,” I said, backing up a step, “turn around.”
He did. I studied his face. He was pissed off and scared. I couldn’t tell which feeling was stronger.
“Who do you work for?” I asked.
“Go to Hell,” he answered. His voice was less human than his face, or at least it had no business coming out of a grown man. High-pitched and rhythmic, it reminded me of a little girl singsonging a jump-rope rhyme.
“Where’s the hostage?”
“I’m not telling you anything.” Like before, he sang soprano and gave the words a beat.