 
### Dreams Die Hard

by P X Duke

Copyright 2012 P X Duke

All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-0-9869558-7-7

Disclaimer

What follows are works of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Places mentioned by name are entirely fictitious and purely products of the author's imagination, and are not meant to bear resemblance to actual places or locations.

### Dreams Die Hard

_Frank Ross is heading towards the anonymity of the bright lights and big city in an attempt to make good his escape from cartel sicarios. He's got a reformed junkie riding bitch on the back of his motorcycle. Someone is throwing Molotov cocktails at them—and Frank doesn't even drink. When his ride ends in the parking lot of a strip club, the seedy edge of the city finally catches up, forcing Frank to dig deep within to triumph over drugs, greed, arson and murder._

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Dreams Die Hard

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DREAMS DIE HARD

**I SPENT THE** winter running up and down the Baja under blue sky and warm sunshine. Then winter turned to spring, and it was time to head north. Barely seventy miles beyond the border, my luck ran out and I ended up broke down and stranded. By accident, I managed to cross paths with a woman in the parking lot of the only motel in a ghost town on the west side of the Salton Sea.

Kelly took pity on me when I told her my tale of woe. She invited me for a home-cooked meal. After a winter spent down Mexico way, that sounded like a good idea at the time. I ended up spending the night. The next morning, before I even got my pants on, she told me I could stay while I waited for my bike parts.

Maybe accepting the invitation was a mistake, because the one thing I never figured on was being interrupted by Kelly's ex, Buddy. Perhaps I should have.

A baseball bat took care of that.

I was only trying to get comfortable when I unpacked and put some clothes away in the closet. In the space of a couple of minutes, and thanks to that attempt at good housekeeping, my ideal setup changed for the worse when I kicked over a box.

Curiosity got the cat, and mistake number two occurred when I looked in the box.

What I thought might be shoes turned out to be drugs. A five key bundle, to be exact. They weren't just any drugs, either. They were cartel drugs. The giant scorpion printed on a sticker crawling over the outside of the package clued me in to that. Don't ask how I knew.

Five keys of coca wasn't small potatoes. In fact, it was over ten pounds. If you could move quantity like that a lot farther north, you could wring almost two hundred-thousand dollars out of it. It's known as the law of supply and demand.

I figured Kelly had lifted the drugs from Buddy, her former boyfriend. No wonder he was trying to get back in. It wasn't exactly because he was jealous. He was searching for something, and that something had to be the drugs.

Tammi was a friend of Kelly's, another local girl who lived across the street in Bombay Shores. Much like I had, she got dragged into the equation without knowing what was going on. When the smoke cleared, we figured we'd better blow town before the shit hit the fan, and we did.

But not before the shit hit the fan.

To say that Kelly didn't know what she had gotten herself into was an understatement, but by then it was too late. The damage had been done, and when she put out some feelers to get rid of the product in bulk, the wrong people found the right address.

My third mistake was staying around long enough to witness the consequences.

The arrival of the black SUV packed with cartel sicarios followed by the thunder of two shots in quick succession put Kelly out of business in a hurry. When Tammi and I heard the gunfire, we got out of town as fast as we could.

I didn't think either one of us was part of the cartel's problem. I was just riding through and sleeping over. Tammi was merely a neighbor. Whatever became of Buddy, I had no idea, and there was no way I'd be sticking around to find out.

FIRST DAY

Into the night

**ONLY A FEW** hours ago we were forced to listen to the sound of a hit-man's double tap. Now Tammi and I were on the run, headed north in an attempt to get lost in the big city and bright lights of El Lay.

Better to be safe than sorry.

By the time we rolled into Banning, I figured Tammi might want to wash away the asphalt perfume before she hit the dance-club circuit looking for work. I pulled off the 10 into the Farmer's lot and shut down. I purposely avoided saying anything about what we witnessed in Bombay Shores.

—How long did you work at the place we're headed to?

—The El Diablo? A couple of months. It started to get a little weird towards the end so I moved on.

—Weird? How?

—Drugs. It started slow at first. The club owner was dealing out the back door. Things got worse when he became mixed up with a cartel. No one figured on that. From there it all went bad. The bouncers let in anyone who tipped them. The customers were getting worse. Unruly and touching and thinking we'd all go home with them. The girls got tired of getting hit on constantly with no one to back us up. A lot left and never looked back.

—And you want to go back there to work. Do you think that's a good idea?

—I want to have a look at the place. I've been wondering who's left from the old days.

The old days? She's been gone for six months. How old could a day be?

—If you're going to show up they're going to want to see the old Tammi. You want me to get your bag so you can pretty up?

—That's all right. I'll get it. Don't leave without me.

Don't leave without her? Who the hell has she been hanging out with? I started to think that there was more to this fast getaway of ours than met the eye.

Tammi returned looking like she just stepped out of a spa makeover. I knew a woman could whip up miracles with a comb, a brush and a little makeup, but she had transformed herself. No longer was she a disheveled, wind-blown woman riding bitch on the back of my motorcycle. She turned herself into a wide-eyed, dreamy-looking, long-legged dancer. Her legs ran all the way up to her jean skirt and beyond. I couldn't believe my eyes—or my good fortune.

Her smile was warm and the look was come-hither—my kind of girl.

—How soon can I start stuffing bills into your panties?

—Honey, when I dance I don't wear panties.

**The El Diablo** didn't look very inviting. The cracked brick exterior leaned at odd angles here and there. Peeling, faded paint revealed cheap wood walls separated by pillars. Neon blinked around unlit letters barely hanging on to the roof sign. The building was in need of a major reno, and that was only the outside. If the inside held true to form, it would take a nice warm fire to fix all of its problems. A bonfire would be the best makeover the El Diablo could hope to get.

I did a loop through the back parking lot. The only illumination came from an overhead in a far corner. Cracked glass on the ground beneath others meant they'd been shot out. In the dim light I could still see the lot full of tricked-out motorcycles and half-tons. Lots of cash parked out back.

I pulled around and stopped in front.

—Do you know the bouncers?

—None of them look familiar. Don't go far. I don't think I'm going to be long.

Tammi whispered into the bouncer's ear. He opened the door and she disappeared into an explosion of music and light. Minutes later she returned, shaking her head. Right away I knew she wouldn't be performing in this dump.

—The old manager is gone. This one looks even worse. He's drugged out and just plain ugly.

—Well then, where to, baby? We've got a full tank.

—There's another place I used to dance at up in Fontana. One of the girls said they were hiring.

—No problem. We're there.

I punched the button and we snaked our way in the direction of the freeway. The lights and the traffic didn't do us any favors until I hit the 10 where I picked up the pace. We'd be somewhere else soon enough.

—Did you notice the guy standing beside that gray truck out back? I couldn't get a real good look in the dark, but I thought he looked like Buddy.

—You're kidding, right? What would Buddy be doing there?

I had no idea.

—I wonder if he heard what happened to Kelly.

—I don't want to know. Do you?

—Not really. We cut it close to make it out of town with our lives. I don't want to stir the pot. I'm thinking Buddy would be a whole lick of trouble for both of us.

I had enough of Buddy and I only met him once when I cold-cocked him in Kelly's living room.

—The cops raided El Diablo about six months ago. The owners were dealing drugs. Some of the girls were selling. Four of them got lucky and went into rehab on account of it all.

—Were you close with any of them?

—No, I never ran with that crowd.

—That's a good thing. How did rehab go?

—I really don't know. I was never a part of it.

Did I just ask a trick question? Her response came quick enough. Maybe she was telling the truth after all.

* * *

**I COULDN'T TELL** for sure, but it looked like a silver half-ton I last spotted in El Diablo's back lot might be on our tail. I changed speed. I split lanes. I weaved in and out of traffic in an attempt to draw the truck out. Eventually, it worked, and I knew something was going on. I didn't know what.

I only knew it started after the visit to the strip club. I didn't know anyone there. The woman hanging onto to me did. I didn't need a map for that.

—Do you have any old El Diablo boyfriends that maybe recognized you?

—There's always guys who want to make a connection. None of them ever stalked me that I know about.

—Is there any reason why Buddy might want to make that connection with you? Or us?

—I never knew Buddy all that well. He was into Kelly, but she didn't bring him around much when they were together. They pretty much kept to themselves.

I wondered why, considering how Kelly couldn't wait to introduce me to this woman.

—They probably didn't want anyone around because of the drugs. I guess it's true what they say.

—What would that be?

—That it makes you paranoid.

She shifted on the seat behind me.

—I guess. I wouldn't know.

I looked at her reflection in the side mirror.

—What are we going to do if it is Buddy?

I had the answer for that.

—Not a thing. We'll let him make the first move.

—I'm glad you're confident. I wouldn't know what to do.

I'm confident all right. Confident that something was going on that didn't include me. What the hell did I know about this woman riding bitch on the back of my motorcycle? Nada. Nothing. Well, that and she looked outstanding in a t-shirt and a short skirt.

For all I knew, she could be packing another couple of keys in her backpack Andi wouldn't be any the wiser.

Traffic on the 10 was light, but it was steady and that made it difficult to keep the truck in sight. It would appear and then disappear, falling behind cars and trucks. Whoever was driving knew what he was doing.

—Take the Riverside exit north. It'll be coming up on your right.

My passenger knew where she was going. That was a bonus I wasn't expecting from a small-town girl.

—Baby, put your feet on the pegs and hang on tight. That half-ton is about to go by on the left.

Tammi grabbed on and I twisted the wick to stay ahead. I eased into the number four lane and kept to the left. Unless the driver was psychic, no way would he know I was about to take that exit. I looked behind me on the left. Nothing but empty road and a lonely silver half-ton overtaking us.

—When he goes by, try to get a look at the driver or any markings on the truck.

In the mirror I saw her turning to look.

—His window is down. He's coming towards us.

At the last minute I steered across the lane onto the exit ramp. A blaze of orange light exploded in the mirrors.

—Holy shit. Did you see what that was?

—I think he threw a firebomb at us.

The truck raced past. It stayed on the 10.

—What the hell was that all about?

There was nothing right about this deal. I started to wonder if I had missed out on something in the last couple of days. If that was Buddy, he had to have a reason for whatever he was doing. Given his connection to Kelly, I'd say it was about missing drugs.

I knew I didn't have any.

* * *

**THE EL DIABLO** turned out to be a dump. I wanted to know what I'd be walking into at La Bonita. I did a circuit and rode through the parking lot like I knew what I was doing.

La Bonita was no dump. So far, the difference looked to be night and day and I wasn't even inside yet. The parking lot was well-lit. Many of the vehicles were high-end, but there was quite a collection of regular stuff, too. A mix seemed to me like it would be a good thing.

Out front, one of the bouncers gave me the sign to shut down. In my experience it wouldn't be the first time bikers weren't welcome at a strip club. Then Tammi recognized him and all hell broke loose. She jumped off the bike and jumped into the open arms of the biggest bouncer I'd ever seen. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and he danced the two them in circles.

That left two of us standing around doing nothing.

—I'm Frank. The good-looking one wrestling with your friend is Tammi Dominga.

—Dominga? I've heard that name mentioned around here. You can call me Bull.

—She's looking for work. What are the chances?

—I heard somebody say Dominga was a pretty popular dancer back more than a few months. I never saw her perform, but from what I heard I'd say the chances could be pretty good.

—Judging by the reception out here, I think you might be right. Hey you two, are you going to bump crotches all night?

The giant dropped Tammi at the top of the stairs.

—Frank, this is Dawg. The guy beside you is Bull. They're the guys you need to know if you want your bike to stay put when you're not on it.

Bull stuck out his hand and I took it. He had a grip like a goddamn drill-rig roughneck. I let him see me wince. I was no pussy, but I figured the new guy might as well try to make some points.

I followed Tammi into the club. The manager recognized Tammi the minute she walked through the door into La Bonita. It had to be the earpieces I saw on the bouncers outside, but even so. He was on her like a dog on a fire hydrant, and I don't mean he was pissing on her.

He went to work, machine-gunning questions. Where have you been? Who's the guy on the motorcycle? Is he your boyfriend? Husband? Are you living together? Is this a social call, or are you looking for work?

Other dancers recognized Tammi. She ended up surrounded by a mob. In minutes it turned into old home week. The crowd of scantily-dressed women ignored the evil eye coming from some of the paying customers. Their hard-earned cash didn't include down-time for the women who had left the tables.

The girls didn't seem to mind. No one complained. It looked like Tammi was everybody's favorite and she hadn't even started to work yet.

She paraded across the floor and the applause followed. Quite a few in the crowd recognized her. Even the manager stood back and beamed. She must have been a money-maker. I wondered if he had a thing for her at one time, because he looked pretty pleased that his prodigal dancer had returned.

Tammi's stroll past the tables ended and she came back with a huge grin pasted on her face.

—How do you feel about getting up and doing a set?

She shrugged.

—Vince, I've been riding bitch and wearing asphalt perfume out on the freeway. The last time I washed my face was hours ago. Do you really want me to go onstage looking like this?

—Girls, take her into the dressing room and get her set up.

—That sounds like a yes. Who's the DJ?

—It's still Ray.

I figured I might as well make myself useful.

—I'll get the backpack.

—No, I'll get it.

Tammi retrieved her backpack and disappeared into the club. The manager, Vince, stayed behind and we stood around sizing each other up. He asked a lot of questions, maybe even too many.

—Where are you from? Do you have a job? How long have you known Tammi?

He seemed to be a protective son of a bitch, but that was all right with me. If Tammi had been a moneymaker for the club in the past, who was I to put a damper on things? I turned myself into Mr. Nice Guy and answered as best I could.

—How did you two meet?

I left that one alone. My explanation would take too long. Besides, I figured Tammi could give him his answer when she was ready. He must have thought I was all right, because it looked to me like he was beginning to relax.

—You ever do any bouncing?

That one came out of nowhere. I'm not a small guy, but after meeting Dawg and Bull out front I knew bouncing wasn't ever going to be my strong point in a place as busy as this. I figured he already knew that. I wasn't going to bullshit him.

—Not a bit. I'm not built for that. I'm more of a talker.

—Oh, you mean bullshitter. That's all right with me.

It was okay with me, too. If that was a test, I didn't mind taking it. He even called my bluff.

—It's time La Bonita had a greeter at the front door and on the floor. I need someone to schmooze the crowd and give the money-spending customers that pay our salaries the recognition they deserve. Dawg and Bull do a good job for what they do, but they're a little rough around the edges. How are your edges?

—I can fit in. What I don't know I can learn fast.

All this had to be because of Tammi, but hell, I didn't care. I needed a job too. Then Vince really put it to me.

—The club has an apartment on the ground floor. It's remodeled and soundproofed. One bedroom. Mostly furnished. There's access from a stairwell in the club and an outside door, but it's private. You interested?

I considered for about the length of a New York minute.

—All right, I'll take it. But on one condition.

It'd be like living next door to work, but I wasn't going to say no. How the hell could I refuse? I didn't even ask about the rent. Vince looked about ready to change his mind.

—What would that condition be?

I could tell by his tone that Vince wasn't used to listening to conditions. He must have been wondering who the hell would put a condition on a furnished one-bedroom in El Lay.

—Don't tell Tammi. I want to surprise her. I need some time to pick up a few things. You're going to have to keep her working for a while tonight.

He couldn't say no to that. We shook hands and the deal was done.

—Wait here while I get you the key. If you take the job you can start work tomorrow on the late afternoon shift. Come in early and I'll fill you in on what I need from you.

I took the key. I took the job, too.

* * *

**I UNLOCKED THE** door to the apartment and walked into a brand new opportunity. I had a new woman. I had a new job. I had a place for both of us to stay while we made a bit of money. What could go wrong with that? I gave myself an attaboy and patted myself on the back.

I was only a few days out of Mexico and already it felt like a month with everything that had happened. I figured El Lay was as good a place as any to hole up. I had a roof over my head, even if it was a strip-club roof. What were the chances anyone would come looking for two people who didn't have anything to do with Kelly's drugs?

I rode off to pick up sheets and towels and a shower curtain. I made the bed, dropped the towels in the bathroom and hung the curtain. I even picked up some ribbon for a bow to hang on the door.

The grocery store came next, and then I washed the dishes and neated the place up. If I was going to be doing the mattress dance with Tammi I figured I might serenade her a bit first by making it look like I was capable of contributing.

I had to admit, the reaction I witnessed when Tammi walked into the club took me by surprise. I knew she was a good-looking beauty with her long, shapely legs and busty frame. The long dark hair worked to her advantage, too. What I didn't have an appreciation for just yet was her abilities on the dance floor and working the pole.

Most of the customers seemed to know her. They were happy she was about to be performing again. It was like she had never left. Obviously she had been a popular dancer, and that meant she had been a money-maker for the club. There'd be no holding her back.

Even so, after the long day, food and sleep would probably be high on the list when she dragged her tired ass home. I went to work on a pot of spaghetti sauce. I slapped together some meatballs and threw them into the frying pan. If all that didn't earn me some points, there'd be no telling what would.

I strolled nonchalantly into the club and planted myself at an empty table in a dim corner. I kept my back to the wall where I liked it. I leaned back to watch the action in the club. In no time a beer appeared.

—That's from Vince.

I waved my thanks to him behind the bar. The girl turned to walk away.

—Wait a minute.

I wanted to get a look at her.

—There's no need to be reaching into your pocket. It's on the house.

There was no telling what was underneath the loose clothes. She was cute, though. And there were possibilities lurking, I was sure of that.

—I'm reaching into my pocket to leave you a tip. Is that all right?

Judging by the look of surprise, I must have made a good first impression. You never know when you might need something. If all it took was a tip, I figured I was starting out in a pretty good place with this one.

She picked up the money and walked away, but not in an obvious way. She had a long, comfortable stride. Her hips didn't sway. The uniform pants covered up nice long legs by the look of it. I liked long legs. Hell, truth be known, I liked them short, too. Or any I could get them.

The corner table gave me a good view of the huge strip club. Three stages glowed under the lights. I couldn't count all the tables from where I sat.

A stand-up bar stretched a long way against a wall. There was no sense putting seats at a bar when you want the customers sitting at tables to get their lap dances. Private rooms looked to be off to the rear of the club.

The waitress showed up with another beer.

—Girl, I'm a watcher, not a drinker.

—It's on the house again. No tip necessary.

—If you say so. But there is one thing I'd like to know.

—You're not going to ask me out, are you? We're not allowed to date the customers.

I looked her straight in the eye.

—What's your name?

—Danielle.

—Well now, Danielle, if I wasn't already attached to the most beautiful and talented woman in the place, you'd be my choice for that long blonde hair you have all tied up and out of sight. Those bright green eyes are downright pretty, too. Not only all that, but you're a real treat to watch when you walk away.

Even in the dim light of the bar it was evident she was turning pink. I looked her up and down. I always did the first time. Too bad about that loose top. The way she wore it, it might be hiding lots. Or not. I couldn't tell. By the time I finished, the poor girl was beet-red, but she hadn't left yet, either.

Yeah, I was a bit of a pig. Call me out on it if you want, but you would be too in a strip club. Besides, the girls were used to it. They were waiting tables in a strip club with naked women dancing on a stage.

—I don't know who you are or who you're here with, but you sure talk a good line, and I've heard my share in this place.

—In that case, I'll stop when I'm ahead.

She smiled. I smiled back. Another Mexican standoff. They seemed to be coming along on a regular basis. I figured working in a place like this she had heard so many bad lines that one more wouldn't gain me a thing.

—If you get a minute, would you tell Dominga that there's a man over here who'd like to see her?

—Just so you know, the dancers aren't allowed to date customers either.

—Thanks. I'll remember that.

Danielle came out of a side door off the stage with Tammi in tow. I wasn't so far away that I couldn't see the expression on Tammi's face. It's funny how a frown on a woman's face just about erases everything else.

Danielle pointed in my direction and Tammi paraded across the floor. The whistling and clapping began all over. Her see-through gown covered the assets, but it didn't hide much of them. She was naked beneath, but not in an obvious way.

The tips would be good tonight.

Every step Tammi took had the room in a frenzy as she sashayed past the crowded tables. She was definitely all woman, and a good-looking one too—maybe too good-looking for her own good. She had everything in all the right places, and her movements emphasized it with every step.

The woman was obviously in her element as a dancer. Now I knew why she had been one of Vince's favorites. She had it all going on and she knew how to flaunt it. The crowd loved her for it.

—It took you long enough to get here. I started to think you were going to stop and pick up some cash on the way.

—I have to let people know I'm back. A stroll through the crowd is as good a way as any to do that.

She hugged me and sat down.

—How does it feel to be back in the business?

—I don't know if I missed it or not.

—Judging by the reactions you're getting from the droolers, I'd say they missed you.

—Have you seen me dance?

—Not yet. I just got here a few minutes ago.

She looked puzzled.

—Where were you?

—I'm not talking. Its a surprise.

She changed tack mid-conversation. What woman couldn't?

—I see you met Danielle. She told me you were trying to sweet-talk her. Were you?

—She made a point of telling me she wasn't allowed to date customers.

—You didn't answer me. Did you ask her out?

—I sent her to get you, didn't I? I have a surprise for you. Do you want it now, or later.

—Now. I don't like to wait.

—I talked to Vince. He was trying to figure us out, and what the hell you were doing with me. When he was done he must have been happy with what he heard.

—Why?

—He offered me a job.

—Did you take it?

—Yes.

Tammi squealed and jumped on my lap. It seemed like everyone in the place was looking my way. That included Danielle. I hoped she looked just a little disappointed. I didn't care about the droolers.

Behind the bar Vince wagged a finger. So much for the no touching the dancers rule, but he was grinning.

—It's about that motel we were planning on staying at tonight.

—Is it full?

She didn't look so happy now. It had been a long day for both of us. Hearing what happened to her friend Kelly couldn't have been much fun either. We were both exhausted from the night's long ride to make good our escape.

—No. I didn't make a reservation.

—Frank, we need somewhere to stay until we find a place.

—I know. I already found us a place.

—You did? Where?

—Right here. Ground floor. You can check it out when you get off. If it's not good enough it will give us some time to look for something else.

Tammi squealed again and jumped on me one more time for good measure. Bull started making his way over. I figured he probably had to do something to show the customers that touching the dancers was a no-no, even if it was only me. House rules are house rules.

Bull arrived at the table ad Tammi didn't waste a second. She climbed off of me and settled on him like he was her long lost brother. Or something. He blushed and grinned like a teenager on his first time in a strip club. Or maybe a candy store with naked women in it.

Behind the bar, Vince picked up the microphone.

—Gentlemen and ladies, management would like to announce La Bonita's newest dancer for your pleasure. Give Dominga a round of applause.

DJ Ray began blaring her play list over the speakers. Bull set Tammi down and she twirled her way past the crowded floor and full tables. She slowly climbed the steps to center stage. Finally I'd get to see what everyone else seemed to already know.

Danielle threaded her way through the tables in my direction.

—I hear that one is a real sweetheart. Do you want another beer?

—No thanks. It's time for me to be getting out of here.

I went to reach into my pocket again.

—I told you, no tipping.

Tammi glared in my direction. It wasn't me getting the stink-eye this time. I smiled up at Danielle. This time she didn't smile back.

—Tammi asked me to tell you she'll be bringing some of the girls over to meet you when the club closes.

—Will you be coming?

—No. I can't.

—I'd like it if you did.

She shook her head and mouthed a definite _No_.

It was just as well. The last thing I needed was another woman in my life. One-on-one had always been the safest bet for me. I never had to remember any lies if I never told any.

* * *

**I HAD NO** idea what would show up after Tammi's invitation when the club closed, but the place would be ready. I stacked plates and laid out cutlery for a full house. Satisfied I'd make a good impression, I stretched out on the sofa to wait it out.

I rehashed the possible sighting of Buddy in El Diablo's dark parking lot. What was he doing there? I took it at face value when Tammi said that the place was a hangout for druggies. If so, then given what happened back in Bombay Shores, I shouldn't have been surprised to see Buddy in the lot. But was it really Buddy? I had no reason to think it could be.

The firebomb tossed our way on the 10 definitely had me worried. At worst, it was an attempt at murder. At the very least, it was a warning, and an obvious one, but there was a problem with that. I had no enemies that I knew about. Who was it directed towards? I tried not to think about it, but had to give up.

Tammi was the only other person, and the obvious unknown in the equation. I needed to take a ride out to El Diablo—the sooner the better. I had to do it for my own peace of mind. I had no idea whether I'd learn anything.

There was one problem with that. I had a job and somewhere I had to be. Unfortunately, the job Vince offered was going to have to wait. Trying to find out who was throwing gasoline bombs was more important.

At least, it was to me.

I wrestled with whether or not to tell Tammi. She was in good with Vince. Whether he'd cut me some slack because of her was another matter. Instead, I'd make a try at explaining what happened last night in person—that is, if Vince didn't fire my ass before I got started.

Finally, my brain stopped working and I slept the sleep of the dead.

Loud voices, laughter and scantily-clad women announced the arrival of the crowd—and it was definitely a crowd. By the look of it they were all here. There was nothing shy about them, either. They came fresh off the dance floor and in costume. Halter tops, g-strings, short-shorts and high-heels slithered through the door in single file. They were all packing bags like it was a sleepover.

What guy wouldn't pay a premium for eye candy like that?

—Where is he?

—Look at all that food.

—You'd better not let this one get away.

—Is he taken?

—Are you two just dating, or are you living-together partners?

—When you get tired of him, can I have him?

Tammi rolled her eyes in my direction in time to see me puff out my chest. She burst out laughing and I got the reaction I wanted. We both knew I wouldn't be going anywhere with any of them.

Chairs shuffled. Conversation halted. Oohs and ahhs took over. Then there was silence. I had never seen it happen before. The women stopped talking and started chewing—all at once. I struggled to keep the plates filled. Bread turned out to be in short supply.

—Well, now I know how to satisfy the lot of you and keep you happy at the same time. That's got to be a first for any man.

—You'd better learn their names if you're going to let them take you home. And you can just put your eyes back in your head.

I didn't skip a beat.

—Don't be a spoil-sport. I only have eyes for you.

—Yeah, and I was born yesterday.

Hell, she was by far the best-looking one in the place. She had no worries there.

—Ladies, I have to admit I've never seen so many good-looking woman-parts all together in one tiny place.

Laughter erupted. High fives circled around the table.

—Now here comes the house rules.

A confused look spread across Tammi's face.

—I think by now you know you're all welcome here, any time, day or night. However, I'm a man, and as past experience and we all know, even a man with good intentions can be sorely tempted.

—Yeah baby, we know it, too. Earth men are easy.

More high-fiving and laughter broke out around the table.

—Like I said, any time, day or night. There's a bedroom down the hall. If you don't change in the club before you come over, you're going to have to change in there. Keep it neat and stay dressed when you're here.

—Where the hell did you find this guy? He's too good to be true and we all know it.

Tammi's arm snaked around me.

—He's all mine. Don't any of you forget it.

—All right, ladies. Who wants more garlic bread?

They ignored me. I didn't mind. I was grinning like a man in a sunbeam of women.

—Garlic bread? Man, get us some rope, a tarp and a car with an empty trunk. We need somewhere to put Tammi while the rest of us take turns bringing you home.

**The party was** over. The apartment was empty. We were alone and exhausted. I turned out the light.

—No. Leave it on. Come over here. I want you to see something, and then I want to see something.

Tammi reached back to unhook her top and tossed it on the floor. Her breasts sure as hell didn't move an inch. A forearm strategically placed hid just enough. I almost ruptured my eyes trying to get a better look. Then she dropped her arm and let me have both barrels in a full frontal.

—You like?

—Oh yeah. And you know it.

—I can tell. Now get over here. I've waited long enough to get a look at what that woman couldn't stop talking about.

She unzipped me and dipped her hand in to check. She undid my belt and yanked my pants down. I stepped out of them and turned to face her.

—Look at that—and it's only half hard.

She circled me with her hand and looked up. Her mouth opened wide and she was on me, fast, all at once. It felt like she was trying to swallow me whole. It took her more than a while to come up for air.

—I need to breathe.

—As long as you're happy.

—I'm happy right now with what I have in my hand. I'm pretty sure I'll be even happier in a few minutes.

She hung on and pulled me towards the bedroom.

The willing woman in bed with me wasn't the only thing on my mind. I had some fast talking to do, now or never.

—I have something I need to do tomorrow. You're going to have to play nice with Vince. If I'm lucky he'll still have a job for me.

—What's up?

—I'm going to ride over to El Diablo to check it out.

—What? Why would you do that? You saw what it was like last night. It's a dump. It always has been.

If it was always such a dump, why had she been dancing there?

—I need to know if that was Buddy hanging out in the parking lot.

—But why? Are you planning on making him your new best friend?

—If it was Buddy that threw that firebomb—

—Just because he might be there doesn't mean that he was the one.

That was true.

—If it wasn't Buddy, I want to at least try to find out who it was and why he was trying to set you on fire.

Tammi's eyes got bigger. She threw the sheet off and jumped out of bed.

—Me? You were on the bike too.

She began pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. A thoughtful look came over her face. Her arms crossed over her breasts.

—Yes, but I've thought and re-thought the whole episode. I don't know anyone that would want to set me on fire—outside of Buddy, that is. He must have taken it personal when I whacked him upside the head after he scared the shit out of me when he broke into Kelly's.

—Don't think so much. I don't want you at El Diablo, Frank. You saw it last night. It's dangerous.

—I saw the parking lot. I want to have a look around inside. Maybe Buddy has a new place to hang out.

—That's enough talking about Buddy in this bed.

Tammi climbed in and stretched the length of her firm body against mine.

—I haven't had enough of this. Can I have more?

—You can have as much as you want.

Changing the subject wasn't going to change my mind, no matter how hard she tried.

She tried very hard.

* * *

**I KNOCKED AT** Vince's open door. Respect worked for me, especially when I had to ask if I could come in late on my first day.

—You must be anxious to get started. I like that.

—Yes, I'm anxious to get started. Before I do, I have something I need to tell you. When I'm finished I'm going to ask for a favor.

His mouth turned down in a frown. Screw it. What I had to do was important—at least, in my life it was important.

—Start talking.

The man didn't waste time.

—I know you like Tammi. The reception she got from you and the dancers made that obvious. Hell, even the bouncers are crazy about her. That's why I have to tell you about what happened when we were riding over here last night.

Vince looked up from his pile of receipts. Now that I had his attention I didn't want to give him a chance to ask questions.

—Last night someone in a silver half-ton threw a Molotov cocktail at us. He missed, obviously. I need to find out who it was and why he did it.

—You're not going to bring trouble here, are you Frank? I don't want any trouble.

I didn't want to ruin what had turned into a good thing. I wondered how much I should be telling Vince. Now I knew. The basics would be enough.

—To be honest, I don't know anyone who hates me enough to want to set me on fire. Tammi, on the other hand, just might, but I don't know that for sure. I need to find out who's crazy enough to be throwing fireballs around.

—I can't have my best moneymaker in trouble. Find out what's up. I already told the staff about you. I'll make excuses if you don't get back in time to start your shift. You'll be on the clock, but I'm going to want to get paid back.

I offered my hand.

—We've got a deal.

No way did Tammi want me visiting El Diablo. She made that plain during our talk between the sheets. After last night's performance—both onstage and off—it was better to leave her in bed. She knew exactly how to cajole me into getting her way.

I pulled a Bombay Shores and pushed my bagger into the street to keep the noisy exhaust from waking her.

I didn't hold out much hope after what I witnessed last night in El Diablo's parking lot. The bikers wouldn't be willing to tell a stranger what they knew about Buddy, or even if they knew the man. Riding in on a motorcycle wasn't any guarantee. I was pretty sure they'd see me as just another independent, loyal to no one.

**As I suspected,** after a look in the fresh light of day, El Diablo turned out to be an even bigger dump. A bonfire would be the best this place could hope for if anyone ever decided renovations were in order. Given the crowd, I don't think present management would be looking to rebuild—insurance payout or not.

It was eleven in the morning, but already loud music spilled out of the open back door. The lot was half-filled with motorcycles. They weren't here this early for a breakfast burrito. Smoke was in the air—probably in the veins too, but then that wouldn't be smoke. This place was heaven if you were looking to buy. Why it hadn't been shut down was only a guess.

Street-side, the place looked deserted. No surprise there, given what was going on out back. I wondered how long it had been since someone walked in through the front door. I pushed it open and I had my answer. The music almost skipped a beat and it looked like the raggedy-assed DJ was about to announce an incoming.

Or maybe it was my imagination. I was a little jumpy.

Then everything went back to normal—whatever normal there was in a place that reeked of stale air and even staler beer—and I knew it wasn't my imagination.

What was left of worn-out, dirty carpet covered an uneven floor. Beer was splattered over walls and stage. Here and there it looked to be mixed with blood. Jesus, but did they never hose the place down?

The filthy shower stall on stage was so cloudy I could barely see through it. I doubted there would be a dancer fool enough to perform in that thing. If she did, she'd be able to keep her clothes on and no one would know the difference.

I ordered a beer—hold the glass. The waitress didn't blink. She picked one off the tray and slammed it on the table.

—Cash only. No tab.

—I can live with that.

I let her see her tip. I held onto it and took a chance.

—I'm looking for someone. An old friend. Name's Buddy. He drives a silver half-ton with a dent in the passenger door. You see him around lately?

Biker women were notoriously silent to outsiders about their men—the ones they belonged to, and the ones they knew. I slipped the five on the table and told her she owned it. She picked it up and almost ran in the direction of the bartender. So much for trying to be friendly.

Her lips barely moved as she mumbled something I couldn't hear to the bartender. He looked my way and waved me over. I took my beer with me. In this place it wouldn't last long sitting all by itself on an empty table.

—You the one looking for a guy?

—Yes.

—Then you'd know his name.

Shit. Kelly told me his name when I had him down on her floor.

—Grant. His name is Grant.

If he was smart enough to ask for a last name I'd be out of here so fast my head wouldn't have time to spin.

He didn't. He probably didn't know it either.

—He was here early last night, but then he high-tailed it out the door so fast he didn't even pay his bill.

—You know where he lives?

—Not a chance. He comes and goes. Where he goes I could care less.

I slapped a twenty on the bar.

—Maybe this will take care of his bill.

Yeah, and that twenty would end up in the bartender's back pocket so fast a magician couldn't spot the move.

—Who's looking?

—Tell him it was Kelly's friend from Bombay Shores.

That would get Buddy's attention. Now he'd know I was on to him—if he was the one who served up last night's fiery cocktail. If he wasn't, I was out of luck.

The bartender digested the twenty. It was time to ask about Tammi.

—When do the dancers come on?

He bobbed his head towards the stage.

—One is due right about now.

—Does Tammi still dance here?

—Tammi?

—Yeah. You might know her by Dominga.

—Dominga. Yeah, I knew one by that name. A while ago now. She was trouble. Big trouble.

I laid another twenty on the bar.

—How so?

—She got mixed up with a bunch of hard-cores out of Sinaloa on the Mexican mainland and almost ended up getting herself killed for her trouble.

### SECOND DAY

Noon

**I ALMOST WISHED** I didn't do the trip to El Diablo. I didn't want to believe that Tammi told me a pack of lies about her past. Now I knew why she didn't want me checking up on her. She knew the questions I had about Buddy would lead to questions about her. She also knew that I wouldn't be liking the answers to those questions.

It was too late to turn back. I had to keep digging for my own peace of mind.

I needed time to digest what I learned. The time to do it was on the ride back to La Bonita, before I became distracted by Tammi and the business of the club. I stopped at a light and spied an old-style diner. Just what I needed—a place to pause and reflect over apple pie with ice cream. If they didn't screw it up I might make it a regular stop for a quick meal.

The door tripped a tin bell hanging over the frame. I picked a stool at the far end of the counter with a view out the window reflected in the mirror. If someone from the club told Buddy I was asking questions, I needed to keep an eye out by watching my back. I wasn't eager to be on the receiving end of any more gasoline bombs, even if they missed.

My brain went into overdrive as I considered what happened. Barely overnight, Tammi stopped being the innocent bystander. Instead, I thought she might be a willing participant in Kelly's demise. I was left wondering how Buddy fit into the picture.

I was fairly confident I had the first part. Kelly and Tammi crossed paths with someone and cheated them out of cartel coke—except they probably didn't know it belonged to the cartel when they did the cheating. Had they been smart, the scorpion on the package would have said it all.

Who was their victim?

Buddy broke into Kelly's place expecting it to be empty. Instead, I was there to scuttle his feeble attempt to search for the goods. Whoever ordered him to track down the drugs couldn't have been happy when Buddy's search and retrieval didn't go well.

Buddy probably dealt his last hand and spilled his guts about Kelly holding the drugs. When the enforcement sicarios showed up to remedy Buddy's lapse, he would have ended up off the hook if he promised he could recover the missing coca.

Or maybe Tammi gave up the information to save her own ass. Depending on how well she could lie, cheat and steal, selling out Kelly and then implicating Buddy would keep her in the clear—for a while, at least.

That's where I came in as Tammi's flavor of the day. She saw an opportunity to get out of Dodge and disappear. The fact that I was a stranger would make it harder for anyone to track her down. There was one problem with that. She went straight back to her old stomping ground using her real name.

How smart was that?

Unless she could pull someone else into her scam to take the heat off, she'd soon be dead meat too. I was left to wonder if it was my turn in the hot seat.

There was one more thing I needed to figure out, and that was whether or not Tammi was packing any drugs. So much for that fresh start I thought I deserved.

Deep as I was into the well of misery I created for myself, I didn't hear the woman come up behind me. I was thinking too hard and feeling too sorry for myself.

—That's a nice ride you've got out there. Mind if I take a look?

I didn't even bother to turn around.

—Sure. Go ahead.

The doorbell rattled, and then it rattled again a couple of minutes later. Maybe now I'd get some service.

—I hope you don't mind. I threw a leg over to see what it felt like.

I was in a hateful mood. I had no patience for some wannabe biker chick slinging hash in a diner.

—I hope you're not wearing a short skirt. I don't want to have to wipe it down before I climb on.

My chin almost smacked against my chest as the follow-through from the backhander did its job. The woman hit the back of my head so hard it almost knocked me off the stool. I tried rubbing my head but it didn't do any good. She must have had some practice with a move like that.

—That's no way to talk to a lady. Didn't anyone ever teach you any manners? Or have you been on the road so long that any you ever had were blown away in the wind?

My head rang like a church bell on Sunday morning. I could barely see, what with the water streaming out of both eyes. By the time I got it together and got a better look, the woman's hands were firmly on her hips and her feet were spread like a boxer's. It looked like she was trying to make up her mind whether I deserved another one for good measure.

I held up my hands in surrender and then I looked all the way up. Long blonde hair past her shoulders. Bright green eyes.

—Danielle! Holy shit, woman. You pack a wallop. I'm sorry.

—Sorry doesn't cut it, jackass. This isn't a tacky strip joint and I'm not some piece of trash you just met. If you're expecting to get some service after that degrading little comment, you'd better shape up. If not, get the hell out.

By now, the cook's head was sticking out past the pass-through window . He glared in my direction. He didn't look pleased. He definitely wasn't happy to have his only waitress annoyed by a customer.

—Is everything all right out there, Dani?

—It's all good so far. I think I've got him cowed and backpedaling towards the door.

—In that case, after you chase the son of a bitch out, lock it behind him so he can't use the excuse of wanting to pay his bill to get back in.

She went back to glaring at me.

—Well? I'm still waiting.

—You're not going to cut me any slack, are you?

—Not one bit. And you heard the man. What's it going to be?

—If you want me to leave and never come back, I can do that. Just say so. But you should know that I just got hold of some information that turned my world upside down. I'm not making excuses, and if I was I wouldn't expect sympathy anyway. I'm master of my own demise.

Christ, now I was using the excuse of feeling sorry for myself to excuse my bad manners.

—That's a good start, but you're not done yet.

—When will I be done?

—I'll let you know.

No quitter, this one. At least by now, the cook had pulled head out of the window. I figured he was only far enough out of sight to listen.

—I've got a lot of thinking to do between now and when I get back to La Bonita. I was doing some of it while I was staring at the wall behind the counter. I wasn't paying attention to anything but my own stupidity. You handed me my ass on a platter. I'm not used to that.

Maybe it would work. I could try, at least.

—I can tell. Even so, you need to know it takes a lot more than talk to make this woman forgive. Just so you know, I never forget.

I needed to start kissing some serious ass or I'd be flung out the door in about another five seconds.

—Can we have a do-over?

If that was the best I could come up with, I figured the door just got about half-way closer. I could probably make it to the bike before she started throwing dishes at me.

—Is that what you want?

I figured I better not think about it for too long.

—Yes.

—Good. I'm Danielle. We crossed paths in the bar, remember? You might have forgotten my name when all those women ended up in your apartment last night.

She wouldn't be letting up. At least she stuck out her hand and smiled. I shook it and smiled back.

—Are we even?

—Not yet, but now I'll let you start to work on it.

—I'll have some of that apple pie I spied by the register. A root beer float to go along with it would really take the edge off.

—You're not used to begging, are you?

I couldn't help it. I gave her a full-face grin.

—No, and I'm not going to start now, even for you.

—Good to know.

She slid a huge slice of pie covered in ice cream down the counter. It came to a halt in front of me. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was trying to kiss up, and that's what I told her. Now it was her turn to grin.

—I can't hold a grudge. And you look like you need some space. You'll get it for the time it takes to finish that pie.

I devoured it as fast as I could. I wanted to get the hell out before that woman could crawl up behind me and stick a knife in my back. At the register I put a hand in my pocket to dig out some cash.

—There you go, putting your hand in your pocket again. Don't bother. It's on me. Even the shoulder.

—Well thanks. I'll remember that.

—You'd better. When I need payback, I'll let you know. You look like you're not in a hurry to be anywhere and I've got a break coming up. Let's take a walk.

She turned to yell at the cook in the back.

—Eddy, I'm going on my break. Look after the place for me, all right?

It became plain that Eddy had been listening all along.

—Yeah, yeah, but spinning that one a tale of woe doesn't look like it's going to get you a bigger tip.

—A bigger tip? It wouldn't take much to beat nothing.

—All right, you two. Enough picking on me.

—Come on, Frank. It's a nice day. I don't want to waste my break in here.

—You remembered my name.

—Your friend told me all about you. How d'you like them apples? One more thing. I don't want anyone at the club knowing I wait tables here. This place is my secret. I guess it's ours now—if you don't burn me, that is.

—You can trust me. You want to go for a short ride?

—No thanks. I don't ride bitch.

—Well then, let's walk.

Danielle led us into an alley between tidy, fenced back yards and old, wooden garages.

—I like working in that little diner. I get along with Eddy. He treats me like a daughter. I like that, too. The tips aren't great but the customers are.

—They always are in a neighborhood like this.

—I live not far from here. It's an easy walk back and forth.

—It's good to have a place to call home. I've been on the road for so long I pretty much forgot what it's like.

—I've got a boyfriend, Frank.

That came from out of the blue. Maybe she could read me like a book after all.

—I've already got more on my plate than I can handle right now. Just because I know where you hide out doesn't mean I'll be back.

—That's up to you. Break time is over. You want me to wipe down your seat?

Damn. This woman was something else.

—The reason I've been walking behind you is so I can look without you knowing about it.

—Too late. I know.

—Then you already know you have great legs.

She turned to look at me. Her face glowed red.

—I work the early shift. If you want conversation, come back whenever you want. If you're looking for anything more than that, I know you've already got it waiting for you at the club and at home.

I stopped at the bottom of the steps.

—Do you mind if I watch you walk up those stairs from down here?

Danielle reached the top and grinned.

—You just did. I would have been disappointed if your back was to me when I turned to look.

She didn't seem to mind flirting, either.

**Weaving in** and out of heavy traffic and lane-splitting to make time didn't make for a relaxing ride. Even so, my mind wasn't on riding. It was on what I leaned from the bartender at El Diablo. Learning Tammi had lied to me was going to cause a confrontation.

I arrived to discover the apartment empty. It was probably for the better. I didn't want face Tammi just yet. Relieved, I stopped by the office to let Vince know I was back.

—Did you find out what you needed to know?

—I think so. But I didn't knock on your door to bother you with that. I wanted to touch base so you could clue me in on what you want. It's got to be more than schmoozing customers.

—We have a few different crowds here—lunchtime, afternooners and night-time. That's all during the week. Weekends are another matter.

I didn't say anything.

—The nooners come in to eat and gawk, usually starting around 11:30. Most of them have to get back to work eventually. There's nothing we can do about that.

I wasn't unfamiliar with the workings of a strip club. I'd spent time whiling away hours and money in plenty of them.

—I know that was always the case with me.

—The late afternoons belong to the working man. We'd like them to stay later.

—So basically you want me to feed the customers bullshit to keep them here longer. You want them reaching into the cash machine and spending it in the bar.

—Pretty much. Just don't lock the doors or firebomb the place to get them to do it.

—Jesus, Vince, don't even think that. I've about had enough for one day at least.

—Here's five hundred. Take some time to pick up a jacket and some shirts. Jeans are all right as long as they aren't greasy. Yes, you're a biker. Go figure. Get some shoes, too. I don't want you wandering around in sneakers or boots.

—No problem. Have you seen Tammi today?

—No. Her shift doesn't start until nine. I don't keep track of the women beyond that.

I considered myself told. I patted the five in my pocket and headed out.

**One look and** the girls began flinging plenty of good-natured barbs in my direction. It was all due to the new duds after blowing Vince's cash on clothes. Word spread about last night's food festival, too. Maybe the house rules didn't go unnoticed either.

Even DJ Ray got in on the act. With the ribbing coming from all sides, I held up my hands in surrender and found somewhere else to be. Hell, even the bouncers were in on the act.

I asked around for Tammi, but no one had seen her. No big deal. I wasn't her keeper. She was probably off chewing the fat with some of the girls she knew. I kept an eye open for Danielle, too, but I didn't ask questions. I figured she worked a later shift. That, and I didn't want anyone knowing my secrets.

Hers, or mine.

In the light of day I took a better look around La Bonita. It was in a hell of a lot better shape than what I witnessed at El Diablo. New carpet covered the floor. The walls were clean and fresh-painted. Even the bar had a new top. Vince must have had the apartment done at the same time.

I wandered into the back and took a look at the private rooms. Low lighting and comfortable chairs dominated. I moved on to the restrooms. I knocked first, then called out. Nobody. Vince caught me backing out.

—From what I've seen so far, you're doing better than the last guy. I had to fire his ass.

—Fired? What for?

—That bastard was useless. He pissed off all the girls, one at a time. I caught him stuffing coke up his nose with one of the dancers in the washroom. That was the end of both of them.

—I'm not liking what I hear about that. I'll keep my eyes open.

No drugs. That was good. Nothing would tear a place apart faster. It drew the worst and then some from what I could tell from the Diablo. I had no experience beyond that—at least that I would admit to.

It was late afternoon when I was satisfied with my look-see of the club. Tammi still hadn't showed.

Where the hell was that woman?

**Tammi looked at** her buzzing phone. _Unknown number_ pasted itself across the screen. She picked up anyway. She listened, tapping her foot the entire time. El Diablo's bartender turned out to be worth the listen.

She clomped around the apartment, angry, frustrated that Frank hadn't listened to her, knowing she would have to do something to ease the man's suspicions.

She dug out a thin white tee and a short skirt from her backpack. She tossed her bra and pulled the shirt on. She slipped a hand beneath it and squeezed a nipple while checking out her reflection in a mirror. Yes, it would definitely work. She reached down for her g-string and pulled it off to join the bra on the floor.

The apartment door banged against the wall. He was here. She squeezed herself again, ran her hand under her skirt and dashed into the living room. She sat down and parted her legs to let him have a look. What the hell, he deserved it.

Startled, Tammi gasped and stood up when she caught sight of the man in her kitchen.

—What are you doing here? You know he can walk in any second.

—I heard he was out at El Diablo asking questions.

—I already know. The bartender at the club called me.

Fortunately, she had stopped on the ride up to Fontana to let him know she was back.

—What are we going to do? If he finds out about us, we're in deep shit.

Already he was looking panicked. She quickly came to the conclusion that she would have to exert more control over this one.

—It's you I'm worried about.

She remembered how Frank had checked out her breasts when she let him have a look back in Bombay Shores.

—He doesn't have a clue. Just because he was asking questions doesn't mean he'll be able to put it together.

She'd better be right. Everything depended on Frank's continuing ignorance of what she was really doing.

—You'd better be right about that. I don't want to have to deal with him after what he did to Kelly.

—Come over here.

—Why?

—I'll show you when you get here.

He was hard just from looking at her. That's what she liked about him. She ran a hand up the front of Buddy's jeans and unbuckled his belt.

—What's this?

—That's what you get when you sit with your legs spread.

—Then I'll do it more often. Let me finish you.

She didn't give him time to refuse. She took him in her mouth and went to work. Buddy grunted and started coming almost immediately. He allowed her to finish him before he pushed her away and pulled up his pants.

—Next time I want something else.

She knew exactly what he wanted. She'd been putting him off for weeks.

—I can't have you running out of here when I'm trying to get Frank to forget about what he learned at El Diablo. He could see you.

—So that's why you're so agreeable.

If it took the promise of another blow job to get him to help her, it was a small price to pay.

—Get out right now. He could show up any minute. And don't forget, you're coming back later.

She licked her lips and lifted her shirt.

—We have a job to do.

* * *

**TAMMI HOISTED THE** heavy backpack and hauled it into the living room. The g-strings and tops and dresses she told Frank she packed back in Bombay shores were missing. She congratulated herself on being such a good liar for making up a story on the spur of the moment.

She reached into the backpack and pulled out the five keys of plastic-wrapped coke. Who would have known just a short time ago that she was broke and on her last legs? The bag would put her back in the money once again. The ten pounds slipped from her hands and landed hard on the table.

Frank was a gullible accomplice. All she had to do was let him get a look at her in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to wind him up and she owned him. Buddy turned out to be the same way, even when he was sleeping with Kelly. Men. They were all the same.

Kelly was right. Frank was hung and dumb. That girl was spoiled rotten by what Frank had dangling between his legs. It was her turn to be spoiled.

As much as she wanted Frank, as horny as she was, she had things to do. She tried putting him out of her thoughts, but it was hard. She grinned at the thought.

Tammi dug in the backpack for the scale. She opened the package and scooped powder onto the coffee table for measuring. She went to work doing the same thing on the dining room table with a second scale.

Buddy stormed in and slammed the door. He caught her bent over the table. He let his eyes roam before approaching. He stroked a bare thigh. Tammi moved away from his hand and busied herself scooping powder onto the table.

—It's about time you got here.

—You're getting fast at this, partner.

—We better be. I don't want Frank stumbling in off his shift. He'll go ape-shit if he sees you.

Buddy didn't say anything, and she debated whether she should tell Buddy the truth about how Kelly met her end in Bombay Shores at the hands of the cartel sicarios. She decided against it. What the hell, it would keep Buddy afraid of Frank for a while, at least. It would give her another measure of control over him, too.

—Just don't forget how he left Kelly. He'll take it out on both of us.

She finished with her part of the cut. All that remained was the residue left on the table. She wrapped the coke and returned it to the backpack.

Kelly's death wasn't the only ace she held in her game with Buddy. There was one more thing she could use to keep him in line.

—Buddy.

—What? I'm busy.

Tammi bent over the kitchen table. She pulled her dress up over her hips and pointed the part of her she knew he wanted more than anything at him.

—Buddy!

—Christ.

She pushed at her thong and it drifted past her thighs. She stepped out of it and spread her legs. She reached between them legs and rubbed.

Buddy jumped the coffee table in his haste to get to her before she changed her mind. He bent over her, grabbed her top and yanked it down to grab her breasts. He pushed his way into her center. There was no resistance.

—If Frank walks in now we're both dead, you bitch.

—Then hurry up and get it over with.

Tammi's elbows collapsed as the weight of Buddy forced her onto the table. She fell into the coke leftovers and they smeared over her breasts. Buddy finished, and Tammi pushed him down into the chair and straddled him.

White powder covered her breasts. He licked, greedy for a taste of both. An erect nipple filled his mouth.

—Damn you woman. You're going to be the death of me yet.

—Only if Frank finds out we knew each other back in Bombay Shores. He wouldn't be happy to learn he's been running with a woman who split two ten-key parcels with his girl Kelly.

—I don't think he was dumb enough to think Kelly was his girl.

—True. He was just holed up between her legs waiting out his bike parts.

Men. They only wanted one thing. Just like this one.

—Yeah, and the way you spread your legs for him makes me think you like him more than a little.

—He got me out of that dump I was living in. I have to give him some credit for that. And don't you forget who was just between these legs, you jerk.

—That was nice and all, but I'd like to get between them from the front of you, not the back.

—You'll have to take a number for that. Frank is number one right now.

—Right now? Does that mean I'll get a shot?

—Look between my legs. You just had your shot. Don't get greedy.

—You know what? You've got a funny way of being faithful to Frank.

She reached into the backpack and rubbed her hand in the coke. She got on her knees and wrapped her hand around Buddy. He was nowhere near as big as Frank, but damn if he didn't taste pretty good with coke all over him. She licked her lips. Buddy grunted. She sucked and he was on his way.

—Shit.

He was quick in her mouth. She liked that.

—Now get the hell out. You got what you came for, and you came for what you got. Twice. I have to get to work or there'll be hell to pay.

—If he finds out about us there'll be hell to pay all right. He'll kill both of us.

Buddy was scared shitless of Frank. Now she had to figure out a way to unload Buddy and get Frank to take her farther north to where the real money was. Then it came to her.

—Wait a minute.

Buddy was pulling up his pants.

—Not so fast. Take them off.

Tammi got down on the floor on her back, legs spread, arms out.

—I changed my mind.

Men were all alike. His mouth was open. He was practically drooling. His pants were around his ankles. This would be easier than she thought.

She reached down to pull him against her stomach. She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed. He could barely move. She felt the hardness against her belly. He was struggling, squirming. She almost gave in. She wanted it too. Then she remembered why she was on her back on the floor. Christ, I'm getting as bad as the men in my life.

—You're going to firebomb the club tonight.

—What?

Buddy stopped squirming instantly.

—You heard me. You're going to firebomb the club.

He pushed off of her.

—How the hell am I going to do that? Dawg and Bull are out there all night. The lineup is half a block long.

She reached between her legs. She brought her hand up and rubbed it against Buddy's face. He sucked and licked at her fingers, hungry for the taste of her. She knew she had him. He wouldn't refuse.

—If you want more of that, you know what you have to do. Now get off me and do it. I don't care how.

Buddy did as he was told. His hard-on was standing up against his stomach. Christ that man never got soft. She crawled over to him and took him in her mouth again. His hips rocked back and forth, as though on automatic.

—God damn you. You are a bitch.

—Let me finish. I like it when you come in my mouth.

She had him with that and she took him deep. He lost control and fell on top of her. She stayed attached. She liked showing him she was the boss.

—There's more of this waiting for you when you do your job.

She got up and stood over him with her legs spread. Buddy's eyes were caught between them. She reached down to wipe him off her thigh and rub it over her breasts. He watched, transfixed.

—You like what you see, don't you?

Take a good look, you bastard. You're never going to see it again.

**Nine o'clock came** and Tammi's first shift was just beginning. I watched halfheartedly as she strutted her stuff to her playlist and DJ Ray's performance. Ear-shattering whistles and clapping drowned out the music. She played up to the eager audience and the faces she could see in the dim lighting.

The front rows closest to the stage would leave the most money. I knew she didn't care if they threw it at her. The huge grin on her face wouldn't hurt either. Every man in the house thought she was smiling at him. Her tips would be good again tonight.

I spent a few minutes checking out the reaction from the crowd as Tammi picked up her routine. I never could figure out the link between a half-naked woman moving around on a stage and a hundred-dollar bill tucked into a g-string.

Especially if there was no chance the woman would end up going home with the former owner of the hundred bucks.

Sure there was always the lingering hope that someone would get to take home one of the girls. In this club it was against house rules, but it happened from time to time. Most would never get involved with a client on a full-time basis. Quick cash was another matter. I was no strip-club first-timer. I knew how it was supposed to work—and how it really worked.

Sometimes a customer lived his dream and got lucky with one of the girls. Most of the time, not. If the girl was trying to make her way through university, she liked to have her regulars. If she got lucky, she could quit dancing and use her former regulars to pay her way through school. If she got really lucky, no one beat her up and she could stay away from the clubs until she graduated.

The unlucky ones got beat up, got hooked on drugs, ended up working for pimps who took all the money. It wasn't a good life for a woman who turned dancing into hooking.

Sure, I was working the meet-and-greet, but it wasn't really my thing. I preferred to hang in the background. I wasn't getting paid to do that. I walked onto the floor and moved table to table, working the crowd, trying to get to know the customers. It was definitely up-scale from the afternoon crowd.

I went to let Dawg set me up at the door. He seemed to know almost everyone. With his help it wouldn't take long to get to know who the high rollers were. In a week I'd have it all down and I'd be able to relax.

A week. It had only been a day and already I was feeling like it had been a month. The ride out to El Diablo had knocked the wind out of my sails. It wasn't the ride that did that, though. The real kicker was what I learned while I was there.

My mind wasn't on work. I was thinking about Tammi. I knew in the back of my head that this probably wasn't going to work out for either of us. Still, I was willing to give it a shot. It would be up to her how it all shook out.

If she was doing drugs, or holding drugs, or selling drugs, I'd be disappearing in a hurry—alone this time.

* * *

**TAMMI HAD NO** time to change out of her costume for her meet-up. She needed to be quick getting back to the club or Frank would be asking questions. Questions were the last thing she wanted.

She took off her shoes and slipped out of the dressing room to run barefoot to the apartment. He was waiting, sitting at the coffee table, already cutting the coke. The residue of white surrounding Buddy's nose said he'd been busy taste-testing.

—Did you have to? We don't have time for this shit. I need to collect what you've got and get back on stage.

She stood over him with her hands on her hips. This asshole would have to go, the sooner the better. If he couldn't keep his nose out of the product, what was the point in keeping him around?

Buddy handed over the envelopes and she pushed them down the front of her thong.

—Good boy. Here's your reward.

She undid her top and let him look. Christ, he was almost drooling. He wasn't going to be happy forever with looking.

—You want a taste?

She bent over to let him have a good look.

—I want more than a taste and you know it.

He reached for her and she shifted onto his lap. Her breasts were at just the right height. He rubbed his hand into what was left of the coke and spread it over both of them.

—You are such a bastard.

—Shut the fuck up and let me suck on them.

She leaned forward and Buddy buried his face. He bit her, hard. She leaned back and slapped his face. He bit her again.

—When you don't give me what I want, that's what you get.

—You had all you're getting for tonight. Now get the fuck out. Frank could come here looking for me.

There was no way Buddy wanted to tangle with Frank. She was glad she convinced him Frank would do the same thing to him that he had done to Kelly if he caught him messing with her.

She glared and Buddy almost ran out the door.

**Buddy knew he** was addicted to Tammi even back in Bombay Shores. He was no better than a common drug addict, only it was what she had between her legs that sucked him in.

Seeing the woman on her back on the floor pushed him around the bend. If she hadn't finished him with her mouth he would have slapped her silly and then taken his good time with her. That bitch liked to think she could control men with what she had between her legs. He'd be showing her who the boss was soon enough. She was good at making promises. She'd better deliver this time if she knew what was good for her.

He had a bigger problem than that now. He had to at least make an attempt to do what Tammi wanted. He had to firebomb the club. How the hell was he going to draw the lineup away from the front door? If he couldn't do that, he'd end up caught red-handed.

He went back to the television and tried to shut out thinking about how he was going to satisfy Tammi. He flipped through channels, looking for something to watch. Then it came to him—a program he had watched a couple of weeks ago. It was about magicians.

The bitch would finally see that he owned her. Buddy grabbed a t-shirt and retrieved a couple of bottles from the trash. He stopped at a gas station to fill them. He tore the shirt and stuffed the necks as best he could.

A drive-by at La Bonita gave him a look at the crowd. It stretched halfway down the block. He needed a diversion to draw the lineup away from the front of the building. He needed to turn them into lookie-loos.

He drove past the club a second time, looking for something, anything, to make sparks fly. Then he saw it—a one-ton with a tank in the bed. Too easy.

He arranged a plastic bottle beneath the propane tank and lit the cloth fuse sticking out of the bottle. In a couple of minutes the plastic would melt, producing enough heat to create a boom and flame to draw the moths lined up at the club.

He moved his truck closer to the front door of La Bonita and waited. In the mirror he kept an eye on the propane time-bomb. The tank exploded in an orange ball of fire and flame. Windows shattered next to it. The rear of the truck crash-landed on a car and continued to burn.

The truck's punctured fuel tank added to the excitement, creating a second ball of flame. Orange reflected in windows unbroken by the explosion.

The parade of people shifted from the entrance to the club and moved towards the disturbance. Spectators streamed from the sidewalk into the street to watch what was left of the show.

Damn but Tammi was going to be proud. He lit the second bottle and heaved it in the direction of La Bonita's almost-empty front door. He didn't waste time standing around to watch.

**The screaming fire** alarm inside the club didn't register right away. DJ Ray was the first, only because a fire alarm horn was located above him in the noisy club. He turned off the music.

The dancer on stage froze in her routine, as though she needed music to move at all. The crowd began chanting. Raised fists waved encouragement for her to continue. Someone yelled _Fire!_

Only then did it sink in.

Alarms blared throughout the club. The noise level increased as people began yelling and then screaming. Chairs toppled. Tables tipped. Men began scrambling towards the exits, tripping and falling and crawling towards the doors.

Someone made it to the front door, only to be greeted by an orange ball of flame on the step. As soon as the door opened, another fireball flew past into the club. It landed on the tile floor and broke, exploding gasoline and flame over the carpeted floor.

An orange ball appeared out of nowhere, running through the club. It almost made it past me before I woke up and stuck out a foot. Arms flailed, legs kicked and whoever it was crashed to the floor.

There was too much fire to get close enough to roll the man on the floor. I threw my jacket down and grabbed for a beer bottle. It was empty. I placed a finger over the mouth of a second and shook it as hard as I could.

In what seemed like forever the man went from funeral pyre to a mound of steaming beer. The smoke and flame cleared and I recognized Bull. For good measure I sprayed him with two more. I guzzled half of the fourth and handed Bull his half.

—Frank. Jesus. Thanks man. I thought I was going to die. I owe you my life. Thanks.

—Show me your hands.

They didn't look burned, but what the hell did I know? I spent all my spare time on a motorcycle.

—Take off some of those clothes.

Bull stripped down to his skivvies.

—Christ, Bull, there's not a burn mark on you beyond a little pink skin on your hands.

—Fuck. Fuck. I saw it all before me. My whole life. All in slow motion.

—You'll be all right. When an ambulance gets here you need to get checked out.

Bull started to shake. I couldn't tell whether it was from fear or anger.

—Fuck the ambulance ride. I heard enough sirens when I was a kid on the streets. I'm going out to look for the son of a bitch that doused me in gasoline. If you see Vince tell him I'm taking some time off.

—Bull, put your pants back on. I don't want it to be my fault when you're in front of a judge on public indecency charges.

—I owe you my life. You ever need anything, anything, you come to Bull. You hear me?

Bull pulled his pants on, borrowed my too-small jacket, and headed back to his post outside. If I knew him, he'd be gone looking for whoever or whatever had just ailed him.

The club's firebombing had to be no coincidence. Since having one tossed at me on the freeway, I figured this second was another warning. I still had details to work out, but for now I had enough to do make some links.

I couldn't prove Tammi and Kelly were partners in the drug theft back in Bombay Shores. Instead, I figured on Buddy being the link to both of them. When Kelly dumped him, he probably went to the cartel to save his ass. They sent him back to sniff around when they discovered what was missing.

At some point, Tammi must have told Buddy what Kelly was holding in her closet. That's when he broke in to take a look. I was there to scare him off—just what Kelly wanted when she told me I could move in.

When Buddy reported back to his handlers, they sent out reinforcements in the form of the sicarios. Hit-men didn't hesitate to do what they had to do. It became their job to retrieve the missing drugs and send a message. The only way to do that was to kill the thief.

Now I knew why Tammi had been bugging me to take her north. She wanted to get farther away from her pursuers. There was a side benefit. She would get a pile more money for what she was selling out of her backpack.

She didn't give a shit about me. I was only the means to an end. I thought I was the dumb one until Tammi started dancing in the club under her own name. She was so greedy and drug-addled that she couldn't know it would give her away.

It was time to sit down with Tammi. If I could find her. She'd been avoiding me ever since I rode out to visit El Diablo. Already I could hear the recriminations flying around the room.

I'd be accused of spying on her. She'd tell me all I had to do was ask, that she would have explained everything—even though she said she knew nothing about the freeway firebombing.

I was suckered into a relationship with another lying woman—the story of my life since I pulled up stakes and rode out of Mexico.

* * *

**TAMMI BOUNCED AND** gyrated on stage, only in the middle of her set. She concentrated her gaze on her reflection in the huge mirrors on the back wall. What was left of her costume sparkled in the stage lighting. She stood up and turned her back on the cheering audience. She spread her legs in an exaggerated motion, looked over her back, and grinned a huge fake grin.

She slowly bent over. Her hands hesitated at her g-string. The crowd hooted and cheered. She hooked her thumbs beneath the straps on both hips, bent all the way down, and looked at the crowd.

The cheering stopped. People were scrambling for the exits. It took her a moment before she realized the music had stopped and was replaced with blaring fire alarms. In the confusion and panic chairs tipped and tables toppled as people made for the exit doors.

She kicked off her plastic dance shoes and ran to the back door. She heaved the heavy door open and made for the apartment. She rushed through the door and almost toppled over Buddy in the tiny kitchen. He had retrieved the backpack from behind the sofa in the living room.

—What are you doing? The club is on fire.

Buddy continued rolling a twenty. Satisfied with the result, he bent over the counter, stuffed the roll into his nose and inhaled the triple-line setup on the counter in front of him.

Tammi slammed the door shut. Buddy almost jumped out of his skin.

—You can't keep your hands off of anything, can you?

He jumped up from the counter and circled Tammi, almost dancing in his eagerness.

—I did it. I did it. Now you owe me. You fucking owe me.

—So I owe you. Why couldn't you wait until I was out of the club at least? When Bull ran in through the door I thought I was going to get trapped in that dump.

—Fuck Bull. You owe me. Get on your back. Get on your fucking back.

—Slow down. Rub yourself in some of that coke. You know how I like to suck you when you're covered in it.

Tammi grabbed for Buddy and pulled him into the living room. She went down on her knees and began to work him over. Simpleton. He was even easier than Frank.

Buddy grabbed her shoulders and pushed her hard onto the floor. Surprised, she fell on her back, legs splayed in disarray. Her eyes locked onto something under the sofa, and in that same instant Buddy yanked the g-string past her ankles and pushed into her.

She didn't struggle. Now that she had Buddy where she wanted, the rest would fall into place fast. She rocked her hips and Buddy grunted, emptying into her. She rolled onto her side and Buddy slipped off of her.

—Happy now?

—We're not done yet.

—No, we're not.

Buddy couldn't pull his eyes away.

—Get on your back. I want to ride you.

Buddy rolled over. He glued his eyes to her breasts. He made a grab and watched her nipples harden. She rubbed her hand in what was left of the coke on the table. She smeared it across her breasts and leaned over him. He buried his face between her breasts and fastened his mouth to an erect nipple. She let him have all he wanted.

Buddy was hard again. Jesus he felt good inside her. She knew already she was going to be fast. Without thinking, she reached underneath the edge of the sofa and made a grab for the drywall knife.

She brought it out and slipped the blade. Her nipple popped out of Buddy's mouth and his eyes widened.

Tammi gasped and screamed and lost control. She groaned and started to tremble. Her hips bucked. She screamed again and felt herself contracting. Buddy grunted and squirted into her for the second time. Mid-way through her own orgasm she tightened her grip on the knife. She bucked again and lost control. The knife slashed at Buddy's throat as her body heaved over him, again and again.

Buddy never uttered a sound. He didn't get a chance.

Tammi's body convulsed again, still out of control. Finally, she leaned over and pushed herself off of Buddy. She stayed crouched beside him, trying to breathe. Sweat and blood ran off of her onto the carpet.

She had no idea how long she stayed bent over Buddy's limp body. It was all she could do to move. She tried to stand up. She couldn't. Instead she reached down to rub herself and her nipples hardened. If the son of a bitch wasn't limp she'd climb on him again.

She stayed on the floor, kneeling beside Buddy, trying to catch her breath. Still trembling, she managed to get off the floor and dial 911. She grabbed a bed sheet to put over the table and threw her backpack in the closet.

The banging on the door grew louder.

**Everyone was out** of the club. The fire trucks and ambulances had done their jobs. Bull did as he said and disappeared. A cop cornered me, eager to begin the investigation. I was telling him what little I knew when I overheard the alert coming in over his radio.

The cop broke it off and I followed as he rushed down the alley towards the rear of the club and the parking lot. He stopped, looked around, and saw me as I was about to walk past him to the apartment.

—Is there something wrong?

—We had a report of a rape.

—What? A rape?

—That's right. Why are you here?

—I live here.

I managed a quick look through the open door as the officer entered the apartment. A body lay sprawled on the floor beside the sofa. His pants were down around his ankles. The man looked familiar. What the—

Buddy. What the hell was he doing here?

I heard Tammi in the kitchen, sobbing her eyes out to someone, probably a cop. I took another quick look through the doorway before another cop turned me around and led me away. The sight of Tammi's knees and thighs, covered in blood, forced the hair on the back of my neck on end for the second time in a week.

How the hell did her legs get covered in blood?

Something wasn't right. I got smart and went back to the club. If the cops wanted to ask me about the rape, they could come and find me. When they finally tracked me down, it was to fill me in on what had happened in the apartment.

The cop said Buddy had been harassing Tammi. She tried to get away from him by coming to the city. It didn't work. Apparently, Buddy's attempt to firebomb La Bonita had been part of the harassment. After he set the fire he probably saw Tammi running from the club to the apartment. That was when he attacked her. She did the only thing she could when she saw the box-cutter. It appeared to be a cut-and-dried case of self-defense.

_Yeah. According to Tammi. Too bad Buddy couldn't speak._

The cop left, hoping for pastures greener than me, and began interviewing victim of the fire bomb thrown into the club.

I took time digesting what I'd been told. The more I thought about it, the more it didn't add up. The cops might not have any questions, but I had a few. It was Kelly who was being harassed by Buddy in Bombay Shores, not Tammi. Tammi was on the run from cartel killers. There were two fire bombings and a rape to Buddy's credit.

Except I didn't believe the rape story. I was no cop, but it looked to me like Buddy was on his back when his throat was slit. How were they going to explain that? And how had Tammi's knees and thighs got that way?

This was turning into another Bombay Shores, but it was more complicated than that. Tammi was involved up to her ears this time. If she didn't get started digging herself out, she was going to end up like Kelly.

I wasn't anxious to share the grave.

### THIRD DAY

Noon

**VINCE CALLED IN** the staff to make an announcement. We lingered by the stand-up bar, waiting to learn if or when the club would re-open. The damage was limited to the outside of the entrance and a bit of carpet, but still, rumors flew between the two groups surrounding the bar.

The place was losing money. Insurance wouldn't pay. The fire was the last straw, an excuse to close up for good. We'd be laid off and sent packing with no pay. A smaller group at the end of the bar talked in subdued voices about Tammi and Buddy. One foe them spotted me, and they shut up.

Vince climbed into DJ Ray's booth and the chatter quieted. We waited to hear Vince's marching orders for the club's opening—or to hear if it would open.

—As you all saw when you walked in, damage is minimal. The door will be replaced. Fresh paint will cover the scars. It's going to take more than a little fire to shut me, and all of you, down. Best of all, we're going to re-launch at nine p.m. tonight.

Applause and cheering echoed through the huge room, empty but for the employees.

—The police are working on the who and why. From what I've been told so far, it looks like it was random. Someone tried to make it personal when he took a liking to one of the dancers.

The chatter stopped, replaced by an uncomfortable silence.

—Before you leave, there's one more thing. Take the rest of the day off and enjoy it. You'll all get paid as if you were at work. Come back tonight and we'll start the re-launch with a full shift and a whole new attitude.

That brought the house down. The rush to the door left an empty room. Vince waved me over to DJ Ray's booth. He was the last person I wanted to see.

—Do you have any ideas about what happened last night?

Did I, or didn't I? Did I want to keep working here? Or was it finally time to get the hell far enough away that this shit wouldn't be following me around for the foreseeable future?

—Buddy was no stranger to me or to Tammi. I first ran into him in Bombay Shores.

I told Vince how I ended up with Tammi on the back of the bike. I re-hashed the firebombing attempt on the night we arrived. I told him about riding out to El Diablo and what I learned when I started asking questions about Tammi.

—I think Buddy and Tammi have been connected from the start. I don't think the club's firebombing was random. Someone must have put Buddy up to it.

How, or who, I had no idea, but it had become obvious that it wasn't healthy for anyone to be around either of them.

—Well, there's one less now. What do you think I should do?

I thought about telling Vince to boot my ass and Tammi's out the door as fast as he could before the entire club got burned to the ground. Not wanting a club that had been turned into a smoking pyre would make for a wise choice.

I didn't go with that.

—I don't know, Vince. If you want me to get her out of here, I'll go.

He looked at me, appraising, before his gaze returned to the burned-out door.

—I know a guy. Let me pass everything on to him and we'll see what he comes up with.

We shook on it, but I already knew my days here were numbered. If he was going to pay someone to look into Tammi's background, there's no telling what nightmares a real investigation would come up with.

Buddy's sudden appearance wasn't random. He'd been around since Bombay Shores. How Buddy managed to get into the apartment was anyone's guess. Tammi wasn't talking. Because of the police investigation, she said. Sure as shit there was more to it than that.

I went looking for Tammi, but as usual, she had disappeared. She must have thought she was better off making herself scarce before I came back to ask more questions she didn't want to hear. Even without her answers, I knew I didn't need another woman with a drug problem in my life.

The latest effort to set fire to the club was a crazed attempt to send another message. But who was the message for? Then a light bulb went off like a Molotov cocktail flung into the dark of night.

I hurried to the apartment, on the hunt for anything to confirm what had been staring me in the face. For my efforts I ended up with a wad of cash tucked into the sofa. Either Tammi was making more in tips than she was telling me, or something else was going on that involved Buddy, drugs and distribution.

I stashed the wad in a saddlebag and eased the bike out of the lot. I headed west past Beaumont and then Banning and the desert. On the way I contemplated life.

The firebombing. Buddy's attack on Tammi and his subsequent death. Her past life at El Diablo. It was all catching up. It was time to re-evaluate.

What the hell was I doing? I already had a bellyful of Kelly back in Bombay Shores. I narrowly escaped getting shot in the back. Now Tammi had joined the pack. I was fed up with being played for a patsy.

I was better than that, and I knew it.

I backtracked to Banning and took the 243 and its twisties up into the hills. By then it was late and I was mentally exhausted. Still fed up, I turned around and headed back to the city. I wasn't looking forward to the confrontation with Tammi that I knew would be coming up.

Before I knew it I was in front of the diner. I hated to admit it, but Danielle must have turned out to be foremost on my mind. Why I felt the subconscious need to share my dilemma with her, I didn't know.

—I heard you ride up. What's going on?

My lucky day.

—Did you hear what happened at the club last night?

—No. Yesterday was my day off. I've been here. What happened?

—Where to start?

I took a better look. Her face was covered with thick makeup. She didn't seem to me to be the type. I moved closer for a better look. She caught me examining her and turned away. Either the car she was riding in had to be a complete write-off or someone had taken a fist to her face.

—Never mind about the club. What happened to you? Will you tell me about it, or are you going to force me to be a gentleman and ignore it?

Her face flushed through the makeup. To cover for being caught out she poured me a cup of coffee and disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear whispering. When she came back she had on her street clothes.

—Let's take a walk.

* * *

**THERE WAS NO** hiding it in the bright sunlight. Someone had put his fists to Danielle. Maybe the boots, too. I couldn't see what was beneath her clothes.

—My boyfriend is the jealous type. I mean he was. He's not my boyfriend any more after what he did to me. He came home drunk last night. It seems that someone at the club told him I was seeing someone on the side.

—I discovered this place and you completely by accident. I didn't say a word to anyone.

I only hoped she believed me.

—That wouldn't matter to him. He's crazy jealous. He'd never let me ride to work at the club. He always dropped me off and picked me up when my shift was over.

—Do you think he might have seen us on our walk?

—I don't know. I don't care any more. He's in jail. I hope he'll be cooling his heels for a while. With my luck he'll be out in a day.

—Is there anything I can do?

—No. Well, you can listen to me whine about it.

Taking a beating and talking about it didn't sound like whining to me. Hell, Danielle had to be tough as nails to take a shiest-kicking like that and still be standing.

—I don't think it's whining.

—You were going to tell me about the club.

—I was, but first I want to know more about you and riding. Did I hear that right?

—Don't hold out on me. I'll tell you later. What happened last night?

There was no sense honey-coating it. Danielle would find out soon enough when she started her next shift.

—The club was firebombed.

—What? Was anyone hurt?

—You heard me right. Bull had a narrow escape. I got to him in time. He's all right though. No burns, nothing.

—Do they know who did it?

—Buddy's truck was parked on the street. When the cops checked it out, they found a lighter and some rags and empty bottles. The thinking is that it was some form of revenge.

—Who's Buddy?

Christ, now I'd have to explain everything.

—How much time have you got?

—Eddy gave me the rest of the day off. I think he's taken a liking to you. I'm going to collect my riding gear. You can wait for me at the diner.

Eddy brought out some sandwiches.

—Take these with you. Ham and cheese And lettuce on rye. She eats them all the time when she wants lunch.

—Do you know what happened to her last night?

Eddy started in on an explanation. He halted mid-sentence.

—I think she should be the one to tell you all about it if she hasn't already.

The throaty exhaust of Danielle's pearl-white motorcycle pulled in next to my bagger.

—Is that new, or do you wax it a lot? You do realize that the more time you spend washing and waxing, the less time you have to ride.

A huge smile crept over her face. In an instant it ended as a wince. Minus the makeup she had washed off, not one but two of the blackest eyes I'd ever seen were plainly visible beneath the sunglasses. She had to be hurting a ton.

—Just because I have eyes like a raccoon doesn't mean that I'm not willing to give you one.

She made a fist but she didn't grin. It probably hurt too much.

—If you're expecting any sympathy by bragging about your new look—

—You're damned right I'm expecting sympathy. What I want to know is, when is it going to start?

—Right about now. Do you want to know where I'm taking you?

—No. Let's just ride.

—In that case, try to keep up.

I threaded us through traffic to the 215 and across to Hemet. From there I struck out on the 74. She didn't have any trouble keeping up. I led us to a lake and pulled off close to shore.

—You know how to treat a girl. I haven't been anywhere near here in ages.

—I wanted to see how you rode in the twisties. So far, you're doing pretty good for a girl.

—And don't you ever forget about the girl part.

I gave her my favorite look.

—There's no forgetting.

This time she didn't blush.

—You were going to tell me about the club.

—In a bit. Eddy cooked you one of your favorite meals when you weren't looking. You're going to sit and enjoy it or else. When you're finished, I'll get to it, but first I'm going to tell you a story.

—Oh great. Another man in my life with a sob story I have to listen to.

She smiled. I didn't mind.

—This all started when I broke down by the Salton Sea.

—What were you doing there?

—It's my escape. I was on my way home after a winter down on the Baja. I like it there. The weather is great and the locals are friendly if you learn a bit of the language.

—I've never been, but it sounds like life down on the Florida Keys.

I let her mention of the Keys slide, but I filed it away.

—I needed a place to stay while I waited for parts. At the motel I crossed paths with a woman who had room for me.

—Was that Tammi?

—No. It was Kelly. Tammi was a friend of hers.

—You get around with the women.

—Sometimes.

I hesitated.

—Don't stop now. I can take it.

—You enjoy giving a man a hard time, don't you?

—Only the ones I think need it.

—I was mean to you when we crossed paths the first time at the diner. I'm sorry.

—I put it behind me and moved on that very day. Didn't you notice?

How could I not like this one?

—Anyway, I ended up tripping over five keys of coca in Kelly's closet. She stole it from someone—probably her ex, Buddy. When I was packing up to make good my escape, she pulled a gun on me. She thought I was stealing her drugs. I thought I was a dead man.

—Were you stealing them?

—Not a chance.

—How did you end up at La Bonita?

—After having that gun pointed at my back, I wanted to get out of town in a hurry. Kelly's friend Tammi said she was going my way. I offered to let her throw a leg over. Then we heard Kelly being taken out and it was time to skip in a hurry. I couldn't leave Tammi behind.

—So you have ties to her?

—We share the apartment below the club.

—What else do the two of you share?

—Well, we sleep in the same bed if that tells you anything.

She had to have that figured out already. There was no sense lying about it.

—Did I miss anything else last night?

—Yeah, there is one more thing. Tammi was attacked and raped by Buddy. I found out that was going on when I was trying to get everyone out of the club during the fire.

—I'm sorry to hear that. Is she all right?

—Well, apart from dealing with cutting the guy up, she's fine. Buddy, not so much. When the cops were looking into that, they discovered his truck parked by the club. They found glass bottles, rags and a lighter.

—Which means he was probably the arsonist. Did I just hear you right? Tammi knifed him?

—I thought you missed that part. Yes, she did. She slit his throat with a box knife while he was raping her.

—Holy shit. How is she handling that?

—I don't know. She seems to have disappeared—and I don't think it's into therapy.

—Now what?

—Vince closed the club for the investigation. It's opening tonight at nine. I'm not sure if I want to keep on working there now.

—It sounds like you have a decision to make.

—I think you might be right. Now let's hit the road. It'll be dark by the time we get back.

We rode together as far as the diner. Danielle waved when she turned off. I rode on reluctantly to La Bonita. I wasn't looking forward to spending another night under that roof.

Talking about it had given me a better picture of what was going on. I was sharing my bed with a woman who had used a box-cutter to slice a man's throat. Funny thing about that, though. When I got there, Buddy was on his back in a pool of blood. There was no sign of a struggle. Tammi's knees were covered in blood.

When she did the cutting, either she was giving him a blow job or riding the daylights out of him. Or both.

* * *

**TAMMI WAS ON** me like a wet shirt the instant I walked in the door. One problem, though—she was wearing the clothes she had on last night. I looked hard, but I couldn't see even a spot of blood on them.

—Where the fuck have you been? I waited in this dump all afternoon and you never showed.

She was a mess. Makeup washed down her tear-stained face. She difficulty talking. Her words slurred. She was drunk or high or maybe even both.

—What can I say? I was out. I went for a ride.

I wanted to ask about the cash stuffed in the sofa. I didn't get a chance.

—Were you out with that bitch again?

Again? How could she know that?

—I know she's got a bike.

—Jesus, woman. I only just met the girl the other night in the club when she brought me a beer.

—You look at her like she's a fucking virgin begging to get laid.

She wasn't far from right, but I wasn't going to admit it.

—And she brought you two beers. You tipped her twice.

What was the point? In her stupor there'd be no reasoning with the woman.

She peeled off her shirt, pulled up her skirt and straddled me on the sofa. She shoved her breasts in my face and I started chewing. That seemed to take her mind off of Danielle. Mine too. She climbed off the wet patch and got down on her knees.

—This is what I need.

She had my jeans down in a flash. I helped. What's man good for if he can't help a woman pull his own pants down as fast as he can?

Tammi rolled onto her back and I climbed on. Her hips shifted and she reached around to show me the way. She crossed her ankles and locked her legs around me. She shuddered and grunted. Nails raked my back. Her hips bucked but she couldn't throw me off. She was hanging on too tight.

I held on for the ride.

Somehow she managed to work her way into the same spot Buddy was in when she slit his throat. Somebody had cut out the carpet and cleaned up the mess. At least she wasn't doing me in a pool of dried blood.

Her bucking matched my rhythm and I emptied into her. The sucking sounds her insides made kept me hard. She grunted when she pushed me off and went down on me. She looked up at me with a twisted grin.

I never said a word. All of a sudden I knew I had to get my ass out of here. I was beginning to feel like I was only a couple of short steps from turning batshit crazy just like she was.

When she climbed onto me and went full-bore I forgot all about leaving. Instead I let her have another screaming fit.

Fuck it. Maybe I'd stay until something better came along.

**Vince was one** smart cookie when it came to advertising. He knew word of the firebombing would draw a crowd like none the club had ever experienced. He was keen to take advantage of it and kept La Bonita closed until the very last minute.

The club's entire staff had been called in to handle the crowd of gawkers that would surely turn into a crazy audience for the dancers once the doors opened.

The lineup started building early in the evening and stretched down the block. It was a boisterous crowd that wanted to be able to tell their absent friends about their experience when they were finally admitted. Dawg and Bull had been instructed to use the wands at the door to screen out the troublemakers that always showed up for a night like this.

Management made it clear to the staff that it would be all hands on deck. No one complained. They were happy to be here for the tips they knew would pile up until night's end.

—I'm surprised to see you showing up for this.

Danielle wasn't wearing makeup. Even in the dim light of the club her bruised face stood out. She looked scared, too.

—I didn't want to be here. Vince called me to come in.

—I don't blame you. Tonight is going to be a zoo.

—It's not that. My ex is outside in the lineup.

We stuck our heads out the door. Danielle faltered against the door. Her head came back in in a hurry.

—He saw us.

Okay, so maybe doing that together wasn't so smart.

—I'll warn Dawg and Bull. There's no sense pushing it.

—Please don't tell them anything about us. I don't want anyone to know I work at the diner.

—Don't worry. What's his name?

—Jake. Greasy hair. Shiny jacket. Big.

—I'll tell the guys. They'll take care of him. They owe me big-time for last night.

Danielle left and I grabbed Bull and took him aside. I didn't want to create a commotion. I only had to tell him there could be a person in the lineup that might make problems for our re-launch. I pointed in Jake's direction.

—The one with the shiny jacket and greasy hair.

—We're using the wands tonight. We're not taking any chances on someone causing trouble with anything more than a fist.

—Bull, did you get some new threads?

The shit-eating grin plastered across his beefy face pretty much said yes.

—Thanks to you. I owe you.

—In that case, just keep an eye out for Jake and maybe we'll be even.

I walked down the long line of eager customers, pretending to count, but I was really checking out Jake. He wasn't that big, but he was stocky and he looked mean. I changed my mind and thought better about getting close to him in the dark. Instead, I went back to the club. At the door I turned for another look.

Jake had disappeared.

La Bonita had been open for an hour, maybe a little more. It was packed with eager customers. Waiters scrambled from the tables to the bar and back to fill orders. Outside, the line advanced at a snail's pace. The jostling and shoving didn't let up. Everyone wanted to be in front of someone else.

Vince stretched it out to milk the re-launch for every dollar it was worth. Normally the dancers would be on-stage shortly after opening. It wasn't happening like that tonight. The beer flowed and the crowd grew more impatient. It was working itself into a fever pitch.

So far, his strategy had worked—that is, until it got close to the time for the headliner. DJ Ray had Tammi's playlist blaring over the speakers. The buzz from the crowd almost overpowered the sound system. Clapping in unison and chanting Tammi's name, the crowd demanded satisfaction.

I knew Tammi was already an emotional mess from what happened, but she had to go on. There was no way she could say no. The lights dimmed and blinked, the signal for a dancer to walk on-stage.

Tammi stayed in the shadows on the edge of the stage, out of the lights. Someone in the audience caught sight and pointed and the pandemonium began all over. The yelling and screaming intensified.

The lights came up. That was her cue to walk to center stage. She didn't quite complete the journey. She stumbled, caught herself, and fell. Her legs splayed. Her feet kicked. A shoe flipped into the audience.

The yelling and whistling stopped short, but the crowd gave her the benefit of the doubt. They were there to watch the star attraction perform.

Tammi managed to get up. Minus a shoe, her uneven gait caused her to trip and go down again. She made a grab for the pole to steady herself and leaned against it for support. She regained her balance and kicked off the offending shoe.

Her sad performance wasn't pretty to watch. Neither was she.

The harsh overhead stage lights flipped on, revealing makeup smeared across her face. Her hair was a straggly mess. She must have thought naked was the new costume because she wasn't wearing one. She tried one more time to use the pole to pull herself onto her feet.

The strategy didn't work and she fell for the last time. She kept trying, like an insect on it's back, but couldn't coordinate her arms and legs. She was too coked to give up. She didn't have a clue where she was.

The cheers turned into jeers. Boos and catcalls drowned out the music. A bottle smashed against the pole. Beer splashed and drenched the floor. I couldn't let her get hurt. I forced my way through the packed crowd, climbed the stage, and picked her up. I carried her off. She passed out, dead weight in my arms.

Out of sight, I threw her over my shoulder and hauled her bare ass to the apartment. She cried and mumbled and shrieked and kicked the whole time. She screamed Buddy's name. She said she was sorry. She mumbled more crazy shit that I couldn't understand and then went back to shouting for Buddy.

At least now I knew how Buddy met his end. This drug-addled, crazy bitch killed him. I filed the information away after dropping her on the bed and went back to work.

Tammi's disastrous performance pretty much kicked the fun out of the night for me. The let-down didn't last long for the rest of the staff. The saving grace was the ever-changing, raucous crowd that tipped well all night. Once witnesses to the disaster had been outnumbered by fresh faces in the crowd, things returned to the low boil that had been brewing since the club's opening.

The night's turnout overwhelmed everyone. The attitude of the raucous crowd spilled over to the staff. Occasionally, I would cross paths with Danielle in the crowded bar, but we had no time for small talk. Instead, I made sure I took my break when she had hers.

—I've been here for three months and I've never seen anything like this.

—This is what you get when local news picks up on a story and runs with it. Everyone wants in on the show.

—I saw you going to Tammi's rescue. What kind of shape is she in?

—She's out of it. She couldn't move a muscle.

—She's going to wake up with a king-size hangover.

—When she wakes up she'll want something to stuff up her nose to get over the hangover. I don't want to be around to witness that.

—So you've made up your mind?

—Pretty much. I've had enough. A thousand miles of two-lane blacktop in a day wouldn't exhaust me as much as the past ten days has.

—I don't envy what you've been going through.

—When it starts to feel like it's time to go, it usually is.

—Is that the voice of experience talking?

—I think we've talked enough about me. I want to know more about you.

—How much time have you got?

—About five minutes until break is over.

—In that case, I'll give you the short version. I was brought up on the Florida Keys—born and raised. We're known as conchs. My parents run a small family-owned dive shop and sport fishing business. When I was little I worked behind the counter. When I got older I couldn't wait to get out, and here I am.

—I spent some time riding the Keys back a few years. I've always thought I'd like to go back.

—My parents want me to take over the business. I'm not sure if I do. I don't think it's time to have that back in my life yet.

—I can't wait to hear the long version.

She smiled.

—Well, you're going to have to wait. I need to get back to work.

* * *

**THE LIGHTS IN** the club flickered for the last time and dimmed. It was closed and empty but for the final waiters cashing out. Danielle was the last.

How did you do?

—Just like everyone else. My pockets are full.

—Jake disappeared when he found out we were using the wands.

—I'm glad he didn't try to get in, but chances are he didn't just disappear. I'm too tired to think about it now. I'm heading home.

—If it's all right with you I'll be coming by for coffee in the morning.

—I'd like that, but don't let it go to your head. And don't be a smart ass—you know which head.

—You're just harsh, woman.

—You know it. Good night.

I turned and almost knocked Tammi over. What the hell? She was so out of it when I put her to bed I almost thought she was dead. No such luck.

—How long have you been there?

She was pale-white and shaking like a leaf.

—Long enough to know you've got the hots for that little bitch. I thought I told you to leave her out of it. Get rid of her, or I'll get rid of her for you.

—What is it with you? I haven't laid a finger on her.

—You'd better not have laid anything else on her either if you know what's good for you. Now get your ass in gear. I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

She grabbed my belt and yanked me in the direction of the exit. I couldn't tell whether she needed to hang on to steady herself or if she was anxious to get me home and away from temptation. In any case, she was too late. I stopped short and detached Tammi's hand.

—Stay!

I could be a son of a bitch too.

Tammi crossed her arms and tapped a still-bare foot. The stink-eye she pointed in Danielle's direction wasn't pretty.

—It looks like you got what you deserved. Your new face is an improvement.

Danielle wasn't about coming down to Tammi's level. Her crestfallen look said something else was wrong.

—What's up?

—I've got two flat tires. This was stuck in the seat.

My eyes widened when I saw the large version of a k-bar dangling from her hand. Her ex left a calling card.

—Too bad it wasn't stuck in your back, bitch.

Tammi wanted a cat-fight. The hate-filled look on her face told me I'd be wise to get one of them out of here. I knew exactly which one, too, but Tammi wouldn't be liking it.

—I'll help you push your bike into the back. How are you planning on getting home?

—I'll take a cab.

—No you won't. Grab your helmet. I'll take you.

Tammi's jaw dropped and her foot stopped mid-tap. She waved her arms and stomped off to the back of the club. I didn't care. The writing was on the wall. The question was, would I be smart enough to read it?

Danielle sat so light on the back of my bike I could hardly tell she was there.

—Just remember, woman. I'm driving this rig. No leaning into the corners.

—Yes, master.

—Okay, now I know you're screwing with me.

—Maybe. Maybe not.

—Refresh my memory. Who was it who told me that she didn't ride bitch?

She punched my shoulder.

—You're my first, but don't let your imagination take it farther.

Damned if I could read this one. We rode the rest of the way in silence until we got to her door.

—Do you want to come in?

Yes, I do. That's not what I said.

—I don't want to start a war with you two back at the club. Can I get a rain check?

For once, I said no. At least, it sounded like it. That was a new one on me.

—I don't give rain checks, either.

—Seeing as how we just shot down the not riding bitch speech you laid on me the other day, I'll take a wait and see attitude.

—If you're going to give me attitude, your head is going to be monumentally sore by the time I'm finished with you.

I figured I should shut up and leave it at that.

Despite all the promises I made to the contrary, I headed back to La Bonita and Tammi. I couldn't escape either one. Tammi and the club had a hold on me that I couldn't break, no matter how many times the voice in my head told me to ride on.

I took it slow and gave myself time to think. How many times had I done just that in the last couple of days?

Would I stay in this sweet mess, or would I hit the road and get out of Dodge? There was no way I wanted to get into something with a third woman I didn't know. Christ, at the rate I was going I'd be three for three by sunup.

Buddy's death wasn't resting too easy on my mind. Tammi creeped me out when she started mumbling apologies for killing him while I had her slung over my shoulder. In her drugged-out state she didn't know what she was saying, but I had been paying attention.

Women. Since leaving Mexico, two had been liars. One of them was a self-confessed killer. Yet I believed every story they had handed off. If I was a rich man, I'd be broke by now. As it was, I was broke anyway—well, except for the wad stashed in my saddlebag. I almost forgot about it.

So far, Tammi hadn't missed it—not surprising in her drug-induced stupor.

When La Bonita's neon came into view I was ready to collapse and sleep the sleep of the dead. If only. Unfortunately, what greeted me when I opened the door wasn't a pretty picture.

The living room was completely trashed. Tammi was knee-deep and thrashing around in everything she had thrown on the floor or smashed against a wall. I grabbed her wrists and forced her onto her knees.

—That must have been quite a fit. Are you done now?

She made a feeble attempt to kick at me but she fell onto her back. Her temper tantrum was over. She was exhausted.

—I will be when I get you between my legs.

Okay, so maybe she wasn't as exhausted as she led me to believe.

—If that bitch had you between hers you're going to be sorry.

I was already sorry, and the bitch she was talking about had only smiled at me.

Tammi passed out the minute I dumped her on the bed. I wouldn't have to deal with her drug-induced jealousy over a woman I had only smiled at. Somehow, I didn't think Danielle was looking to hook up with the likes of me after just dumping the loser she had been dating.

The trouble with Tammi was that she couldn't let go of anything. Okay, so maybe that wasn't her only trouble, because come daylight, she was screaming on the phone to some poor son of a bitch behind the closed bedroom door. Her voice was so loud it woke me up. By the time I crawled off the sofa she hung up. She had to be keeping her other ear on me.

—Who was that?

—A friend. He heard about the rape and wanted to know if I was all right.

Her red-rimmed eyes and disheveled hair gave her a wild look. Her pupils were dilated. Unkempt, greasy hair framed a sweaty sheen on her face.

—You're using.

—I'm not using. I cried myself to sleep last night. I'm upset with what's going on between you and Danielle. The two of you seem awfully friendly all of a sudden.

I looked around the trashed apartment. Cried herself to sleep? Christ, she was barely breathing when I put her to bed. She was so tired she couldn't even snore. This one could bullshit with the best of them.

—So all this was because of jealousy?

—Yes, it's because of jealousy. Now can we stop talking about it?

—We can stop, but it's not going to go away.

I knew it would never go away for me until I left the picture.

—We need to get away from here. I know some people at a club in Seattle that are willing to give us a fresh start. We could head up there first thing.

I already knew the answer. I asked the question anyway.

—Why there? Shit, that's almost in Canada.

The farther north she could move whatever amount of product she hadn't stuffed up her own nose, the more money she'd be able to get. Two thousand dollars for a key in South America could wring two hundred-thousand out of needy people in the north. The trouble with that was when the seller was a user it never ended in a good way.

—L.A. hasn't been good for us. This city is a jinx. We've only been here a couple of days and look what happened.

Fast talker that she was, she was right about that. Although, I just showed up and already I had an apartment, a job and a paycheck. It didn't seem like a jinx was on me if I removed Tammi from the equation.

All I had to do was last until payday. The way things were going, I didn't think I'd be around much past yesterday. Maybe I should admit it was a jinx after all.

—Are you coming to bed now? I'm tired.

Tired? Christ, she didn't even know it was already tomorrow. Tammi was wound so tight that sleep was the last thing she was going to get. Added to that, I was starting to get a little shy about closing my eyes when she was around.

I had been willingly drawn into Tammi's world by some deep-seated need to help a woman in trouble. I ended up getting out of Bombay Shores with a reformed junkie riding bitch. All she wanted was someone to help her move drugs.

Keeping her happy would be easy. All I had to do was stay on the move. When the drugs were gone, it was anyone's guess as to how I'd end up.

What I didn't want was to end up like Buddy.

* * *

**TAMMI REACHED FOR** me under the covers, impatient and eager. Her lips fastened on me and I became just as eager. She moved up and her swollen nipples brushed against the length of me. I moved to climb over her. She cried out and pushed me back down before climbing on. She was soaking wet. She sucked the length of me between her legs in one long, fast downward plunge.

I didn't move. I didn't have to. She shuddered once and fell onto me, panting into my ear.

—You were quick.

—I needed it. I'll look after you when I catch my breath.

I moved to lie beside her.

—Don't. Stay in me. I need you there.

She shuddered again, and screamed.

All right, then. Officially, I was now borderline crazy too.

Tammi's breathing became even. I nudged her to be sure. It was now or never. I got out of bed and went through the room. Nothing. In the living room I checked the sofa for more loose change. I moved to the bedroom. Bed. Mattress. Closet. Floor.

She slept through it all.

Her backpack leaned against the wall on her side of the bed. Could it be that obvious? I pulled a zipper and checked inside.

Oh yes it could. Where had I seen this before?

I pulled a package out of Tammi's backpack. Another scorpion meant another five-key block. By the look of it, the second bundle of Kelly's dope had found its way into the backpack. Now I knew why the woman had been so protective of the damned thing.

At least this time there was no one holding a gun to my back.

I dressed and pushed my ride down the driveway. I knew exactly where I was headed. I didn't even try to bullshit myself. I almost made it, until flashing lights bounced off of windows and fire trucks. Cops directed what little traffic there was around the closed street. I parked and walked the rest of the way.

Orange flames and sparks illuminated a cloud of smoke drifting up into the night. Danielle and Eddy huddled together, staring into the ruins of what remained of the diner.

I had no reason to think it had been torched, but my first thought was of Buddy. Then I remembered he was beyond this. Tammi was passed out in my bed so she was off the hook.

—Were you inside when it went up?

—No. I got the call. Danielle heard the sirens and walked down to see what the fuss was about.

—I'm sorry, Eddy.

—That's it, you two. I've had enough. I'm done. The insurance is going to pay out and I'm moving to the Keys.

—What happened?

—I don't know. It was almost to the ground by the time I got here. The chief says it went up quick. He thinks something must have been used to get it going that fast.

—So someone set it on fire.

—It looks that way.

Danielle looked at me and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

—It wasn't Tammi. I was with her.

—Then I can only think of one other person.

—Jake. Your ex.

—Yes. He won't be satisfied until he runs me out of town.

—Where will you go?

—I didn't say I was leaving. Now come on. We're going over to my place. Come on, Eddy. There's safety in numbers.

We sat around Danielle's kitchen table drinking coffee. To kill time and thoughts of Eddy's destroyed dream, we made a game out of who could tell the saddest story. So far, Eddy was winning. Danielle was a close second with her swollen black eyes. I didn't even consider entering the contest.

Danielle finally remembered Eddy's comment about the Keys.

—What's this you were saying about the Keys? You never told me anything about a retirement plan.

—For the last few years I've been thinking about getting out of this town. The traffic, the pollution, the politics are all wearing me down. I think when the insurance comes through I'm gone.

—The Keys, Eddy. Don't change the subject.

—It's been a long-time dream of mine that this California boy should one day escape the big city and retreat to the laid-back Florida Keys. I've been thinking about the white sand and clear-blue water for a few years now. I hear there's no polluted air down there.

—So that's the reason for the postcard pinned over the grill.

—Now you know.

—I've ridden down that way. There's plenty of places to get lost off the causeway. I think I'd like to go back there one day myself.

—You two are definitely a couple of dreamers. You both need to stop talking and start doing.

—I've had just about enough of being taken advantage of. I've been played for a sucker long enough.

—Danielle told me about your situation. I don't envy you one bit for what's been going on between you and that dancer.

—I tossed the place earlier tonight while Tammi was sleeping. I found what was left of a five-key block—again. Every time I open a door there's dope behind it—and I don't mean me.

Eddy grinned.

—I don't know, Frank. Two for two is a pretty good average.

He was right about that. Why couldn't I see it?

—Not any more. My bag is packed and I'm ready to roll. All I have to do is stop in and tell Vince I won't be around. I'll pay back the five he loaned me and I'm good to go.

—Where will you get the money?

As far as Danielle knew, I was broke.

—I'll tell you later because I know you won't go along with it.

Eddie stood up.

—Well kids, I've had about enough. I'm going home. If you're ever in the Keys, look me up. I'll be in the book.

—So long, Eddy.

It felt good to finally make up my own mind.

—I'll let you stay for a little while.

She granted my silent wish.

—So then, the decision isn't up to me?

—That's right. I'll be throwing your sorry ass out at a moment's notice.

—I think Eddy has the sorriest ass around these parts, but I'll take what little sympathy I can get.

—In the meantime I'm going to take a shower. I won't be long.

She left the door open. I made no secret of looking. With the light behind her I couldn't quite make out everything, but from what I could see reflected in the mirror, she had it going on in all the right places.

—Are you coming?

I hesitated. That was a first for me.

—Are you coming or not?

Obviously I needed to be asked twice.

—Yes. Sorry. I was busy looking.

—I know. I wanted you to.

I undressed under her watchful eye. Hell, she was almost as bad as I was.

—Come closer.

I stepped out of my jeans into the running water. She turned to face me. She didn't look up.

—Hey, you.

She didn't answer. Instead, she cupped me in both hands.

—I'm going to like this.

A hand snaked behind to pull me closer. Finally, she looked up.

—I need to try this on for size.

Her mouth surrounded me and she went at me, slowly. She wasn't new at it. I couldn't hold back, whether because she was greedy or I was willing, or both. I spilled out of her mouth and ran down onto her breasts. I pulled her up and kissed her.

—My goodness.

—What?

—No one has ever done that before.

—If you want to wash off the water's getting cold.

—I don't care. I'll wash it off later. Do you have any left?

—Let's find out.

Danielle took my hand and led me in the direction of the bedroom. Without a word she got on her back. I leaned over her and moved my knees to surround her hips. I eased in, slowly. We shifted and she brought her feet off the bed and wrapped her legs around me.

—You fill me up.

Her hand snaked around to cradle me.

—Reach back and feel the wet.

My hand covered hers in the sea that was running onto the bed. She giggled and shifted and even more seeped out.

—There's going to be a lot more of that in a bit.

—Yes.

I moved my head down to get to her nipples.

—Be careful. Not too hard. They're tender.

There was something I needed to remember about that, but damned if I was going to try now. She started to milk me, pulling and gently squeezing. Her legs moved higher on my back and her hips pushed up against me. I kept my weight off of her so she could move the way she wanted.

—I'm getting close.

—I'll wait until you're finished.

—Yes. Yes. Oh. Yes.

She bit into my shoulder and struggled to lift me with her hips.

—Now you. You.

Her hand went back to me and I was on my way. She forced every drop into her, running her fingers up to milk it out of me.

—Oh God, we're a mess. Here, feel.

She took my hand again and held it against both of us.

—If that's any indication of what you've taken out of me, I'm going to be empty for a week.

—I'm sore, but it's a good sore. My stomach and hips are all achy. I need a pillow.

—You do remember that you were supposed to be throwing me out sooner rather than later.

—So you're blaming me for this?

—Well, yes. That's a man's job, isn't it?

—If it is, you've sure done it. Now I just want to lie here like a lump and enjoy what we just accomplished.

—I'm not leaving.

—Yes you are. You're going back to the club to do at least two things. One, you're going to pay back Vince. Two, you're ending it with Tammi. If there's a third, I'll leave it up to you.

I liked number three the best. No pressure.

### FOURTH DAY

The end of one road

**I NEVER LEARNED.** I was in the middle of it all over again. This time, it was Danielle's bed. Would this turn out to be a different kind of problem or just more of the same? What the hell was I doing and where the hell was I going?

Damn but I made some huge mistakes.

I trusted Kelly until I found out she had five keys of cartel coca stashed in her closet. A sicario sent for revenge found her, and he wasted no time. She ended up dead from a double tap.

I hauled her friend Tammi—who turned out to be a reformed junkie who wasn't so reformed—out of that mess and got us both lost in El Lay's bright lights. That didn't last long when she took up an old habit under her own name and began selling her five keys of cartel coke.

Both small-scale _chapulinos_ , grasshoppers, going from place to place looking for customers. Except, they were selling stolen drugs. Not a good place to be these days.

—You know, I was only trying to do that woman a favor. I figured on getting her out of Bombay Shores and away from whatever had been going on with her friend Kelly.

I was looking for sympathy from Danielle.

—Yes, but you tried to settle her down—and you with her. She isn't ready for that. By the sound of it, she's tweaking, too.

I got it, but I felt guilty as hell.

—I think she's doing more than tweaking. What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm not her savior.

I had that figured out, at least.

—Maybe you're right and getting out of town is the thing to do.

—Before I allowed myself to get trapped in all of this I had planned on heading home. Now I feel like going in an entirely different direction.

—Maybe it's time to go east.

—I'm too tired to think about it now. Is it all right if I stay here tonight?

—You already know the answer to that.

**I slept like** a log—except for the one time I woke up to an earful of the softly snoring woman laid out beside me. I took a chance. After all, I had the kitchen counter between us, and she was busy cooking breakfast.

—Has anyone ever told you that you snore?

Danielle moved into the fighting stance she had in the diner when she smacked the back of my head.

—I do not!

—Okay, maybe it's not snoring, exactly.

I knew when to change the subject.

–Something smells good. Are you making breakfast?

Sometimes the obvious is a way to a win.

—Breakfast? You should be so lucky. I turned the oven on. We'll see what comes out in a few minutes.

—Is it all right if I take a shower?

—I'll get us a towel.

—No you don't. You stay right here. I like my women in the kitchen full-time. And barefoot, too.

I had a shit-eater on my face so big I thought I'd fall over.

—The only thing missing from that is the pregnant part. Don't even think about it.

—I need to do some thinking and I can't think straight when we're in the shower together—in case you didn't notice last night.

Damned if she wasn't grinning right back at me. I went in and turned the water on full cold and took my time.

At least Kelly had been smart enough to keep her nose clean. It was obvious that Tammi had hers shoved so deep into her own product she could barely breathe. She was a doper. Even I couldn't deny that about her.

She must have been fresh out of rehab when we met in Bombay Shores. Twenty-eight days wasn't enough. At this stage, I didn't think there would be a rehab that would be long enough.

Buddy couldn't have realized what he was getting into when he got tangled up with Tammi. His death was unfortunate. Kelly might have thrown his ass out into the street, but it was Tammi who killed him when his usefulness to her came to an end.

I knew what I had to do. It had been staring me in the face since I rode to check out El Diablo and got answers to questions that I didn't want to hear.

—I brought your bag in. It's by the door. You really did pack up last night. At first I thought you were just handing me a line.

—No, I'm past that now. I'm too exhausted to lie. In fact, I may never lie to you—and that's not a good thing for a man to tell a woman.

Danielle gave me a quizzical look, and I knew enough to change the subject.

—How are you feeling this morning?

—What do you mean?

—Last night you told me you were sore and tender.

—I feel really good. That pillow under my hips did the trick. My breasts are back to normal and I'm only a bit sore. Now stop asking questions, sit down, shut up, and eat.

—So then, you can cook?

She gently smacked the back of my head.

—Damn you, woman. That's twice.

—Give me half a chance and there'll most likely be a third.

—We'll just have to see about that.

I cleaned up the scrambled eggs and toast in record time. Just to show I wasn't a complete pig, I cleared the table and put the dishes in the sink.

—So tell me, who trained you?

—There was one or two.

—More like three or four if I know you.

There'd be no messing with this one. It was my turn to gently smack her on the back of the head.

—Tit for tat.

Danielle's smile turned serious.

—You were a long time washing away your sins. What did you decide?

—I've had a bellyful. I'm out. I'll ride over to the club and pay Vince what I owe him, and then I'm gone.

—I thought you were broke. I don't mean to pry, but where did you get the money.

—I discovered it sticking out from under a sofa cushion. Call me a thief if you want, but it's staying in my pocket, just like the tips you talked me out of.

—It's none of my business.

I needed to hear that.

—I don't owe that woman anything. I helped her get away from one problem and she put both of us right back into another even worse. For some reason I was too naive to realize what the hell was going on. Call me a sucker, but the cash is mine. I'm keeping it.

Was I convincing myself, or was I trying to convince Danielle?

I crossed the border a week ago. It felt like one hell of a lot longer. I had to get out of the time-suck that was happening to me in El Lay. I had to escape the bullshit of the past week before I became one of the bodies left behind.

The turmoil in my mind wasn't worth the time I devoted to it. The only problem was, I had no idea where I was going next.

Although—there was this little place I had heard about from a biker when I was down Mexico way. It was out in the high desert, to the east. Maybe I'd check it out on my way through. There was something else, though.

—When I leave, will you ride with me?

I should have bit my tongue. I didn't want the question to scare Danielle off. Mostly, I didn't want to scare myself off. I waited a long time for an answer while the dishes in the sink got washed and dried and put away. Hell, this woman was an expert in procrastinating, too.

—Yes, I'd like to.

Finally. But there was another pregnant pause.

—Do I want to? I don't know. I'm settled here—or I was, until someone torched the diner.

It was obvious Danielle was agonizing over the decision. Hell, if she was smart, she'd kick me to the curb for getting her into all the shit she found herself suddenly swimming in.

—Everything that's gone on has me on edge. Meeting you. The club getting firebombed. The murder in the apartment. Even the diner last night. I don't know what to think.

—I understand. I'm the jinx that caused it all.

And we both knew it.

—No, it's not like that. It's just—I don't know.

—Would you like some time?

—Yes. That's what I need.

I knew what I had to do. It wasn't my style to up and leave while I owed. First on the list would be repaying Vince the five hundred he loaned me. Once I did that, I'd be free and clear. He could keep my salary. I didn't need it now.

I thought I just might head east, up into the hills. I could check out that place in the high desert. It would be new ground, maybe just what I needed to take my mind off my problems of the past week. New ground sometimes held new opportunities.

Would Danielle be coming with me? I had no idea. I liked her, there was no doubt about that. As well as I knew her, she seemed to be sensible. But just like the others, I didn't know much about her or her background—other than that she wasn't afraid to give me a healthy smack on the back of the head when I deserved it.

She was definitely a one-man woman. She had refused to let me hustle her that first night in La Bonita. Considering the last two women in my life, there was something to be said for that.

I had plenty of doubt about whether I could be faithful to one woman—even one that I liked. Certainly I couldn't use the last two as a springboard. What the hell had I known about them?

Whatever the outcome, I already knew I was going to give Danielle a chance if she'd let me.

I had nothing to lose.

* * *

**I DIDN'T WASTE** time getting to La Bonita. It still wasn't fast enough to take the phone call Vince answered for me.

—That was Danielle. Jake, her ex, is beating on her door and yelling your name.

—What?

—You heard me. Let's go.

—Thanks for the offer, but you're staying here. You don't have any skin in this.

All I needed was to get Vince involved in my mess. I figured it was bad enough that I was so deep into it I could barely breathe. I'd been holding my own nose for far too long.

—Are you sure?

—Do me a favor. Give Bull a call and tell him what's going on. See if he'll meet me a couple of blocks away from Danielle's.

If I could help it I didn't want to give Jake any warning.

The situation Danielle was in was my fault. Jake already beat the shit out of her once. There'd be no telling what he'd do for an encore. I had to get to her. I raced to the burned-out diner and parked in the empty lot. I thought I'd be going it alone until Bull pulled in beside me.

—Good timing, man.

—I heard you coming. Are we driving or walking?

—We'd better walk. I don't know if this guy is just plain nuts or regular nuts.

—Have you considered calling the cops?

—No. It'll take them time to get here. Let's go take a look.

—Frank, if he's got Danielle, he's crazy. How are we going to handle this?

—He asked for me, so I guess I'm the guinea pig.

—That's all well and good, but we'd better scout the place before we do something stupid, don't you think?

—You're right.

We fast-trotted to the corner. Danielle's bike was still parked in the driveway where it was last night.

—Give me your phone, Bull.

Tammi answered and I hung up.

—That was quick.

—Tammi is in on it. There's two of them—one crazy and the other strung out on drugs.

—How bad do you think it's going to be?

—Jake is jealous. He slashed Danielle's tires at the club and beat her up. I don't know how far he'll take it.

—He's jealous of what? Is there something you're not telling me? How do you know where Danielle lives? What the hell is going on?

Shit. Now Bull was asking questions.

—Can it wait until later? We have things we need to get done.

—What about Tammi?

—At best, she's tweaking. More likely she's completely run off the rails. There's no telling what she's capable of. I think she murdered Buddy, but I have no proof.

I had to get inside. I had to get Danielle out of there and away from those two crazies.

—I'm going around back to have a look. You stay in front in case someone comes out.

—No one will get by me if they've got Danielle.

I climbed onto the porch. The door creaked on its hinges and bumped against a chair in the empty kitchen. The jean jacket Danielle wore on our ride was on the floor, cut in half. I walked through the rest of the house and met Bull on the lawn.

—Nothing. Nobody home.

A drug-addled woman and a jealous, angry ex could do a lot of damage to Danielle if they thought she was responsible for their problems. Given how they'd reinforce each other's beliefs about who was to blame, I had to get her away from those two crazies as fast as I could.

—What the hell? Where could they have gone?

—I have a pretty good idea. How would you like to meet me for a drink at El Diablo?

—El Diablo? That dump? You think?

—I know. Here's what we're going to do.

**Bull headed for** the back side of El Diablo from the alley parking lot. I stayed out front to watch for things that might want to slither out. When a group of men in a hurry bolted through the lobby and onto the sidewalk, I pushed past in the opposite direction.

Bull was already at the bar by the time I made it through.

—Did you pull the fire alarm?

—I hoped it would get us some results. Have you seen them? Are they even here?

—Not yet. Where the hell could they be?

I ran past the stage. The plastic shower stall had collapsed into a broken pile of junk laying on the floor. An overhead light shone down onto a chair on the stage.

What the hell? Was that Jake? A naked dancer, her back to the floor, leaned over a man sitting in the chair. She gyrated, pushing her crotch into the man's face.

Something wasn't right about that picture. It couldn't be part of a show. There was no music. A flash of light reflected from beneath the stage light, and someone I hadn't noticed moved into center stage.

I yelled. The woman whirled around and stumbled, brandishing a knife. It moved in unsteady circles. The shit-eating grin pasted across Tammi's face turned into a scowl the minute she recognized me.

—Frank!

Jake jumped off the chair and the naked dancer tumbled onto the floor.

Christ. Danielle.

The overhead lights dimmed and Tammi's play-list boomed out of the speakers. I jumped up on the stage and headed for the pile of bodies. I needed to get Danielle out of there before she got hurt. Or worse.

I was only half-way up onto the stage when I witnessed Danielle planting a foot square into Jake's groin. He grunted, took a bow and crashed down on top of her, clutching at his balls. She gave him another one between the legs for good measure and managed to crawl out from under him on her hands and knees. He stayed doubled over.

Tammi pointed the shiny blade of the k-bar at Danielle and advanced towards her. I put myself between the two of them and lunged in Tammi's direction. She tried to move out of the way, but it was no contest. She stumbled and tripped over her own feet and fell flat. On the ground it was all she could do to move. I made a grab for her wrist and twisted. The knife dropped to the floor and she curled up beside it.

I wasn't taking chances. I kicked the knife away and it fell off the stage. Tammi looked up at me. Tears started and she began to sob incoherently. It was all she could do to breathe past the sobbing.

—Why wouldn't you listen to me? All you had to do was take me farther north like I wanted. None of this would have happened. You didn't listen.

In between the sobbing and the shaking it was hard to understand the words coming out of her mouth.

—It makes no difference.

—You didn't listen. Can't we forget about everything and start over?

—That's not going to happen.

—Just the two of us.

—Not now. Not ever. There's nothing left for us.

Danielle stood over her attackers, trying to catch her breath. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her give Jake another kick.

Where the hell had Bull gotten to? Then I saw him. The fireplug of a man had been busy holding back the bartender and a couple of the customers.

—Bull! Danielle needs your jacket.

I had to get her out of here, but damned if I was going to put her out into the street naked.

—That won't do, Frank. It's too short. Give me your shirt.

I handed it to her and she looked at me, quizzically. She knew me well enough to know there was something on my mind. She looked pretty good covered in sweat and smeared makeup. Hell, she looked good without any makeup.

—I'd do you.

For my troubles, I earned an exasperated look.

—That's what's on your mind?

—Sort of.

—If you don't get me out of here you'll never do me again. Get a move on.

It was all over for Tammi but the crying. She had a new patsy now. Jake would probably serve her faithfully until she could find another sucker. If he was lucky and smart, he'd get away with his life. Right now, he didn't seem so smart to me, but who was I to talk?

—What are we going to do with those two? Do you want the cops to get involved?

—I don't want anyone to get involved, Frank. I just want to get out of here and go home.

—Bull, take her out and put her on the back of my bike. Be sure she doesn't fall off when the adrenalin runs out.

It was time to lay down the law. I waited until Danielle disappeared. I didn't want her to see how I intended to solve the problem.

Jake began to crawl across the stage in an attempt to get away from what he must have known would be coming. I leveled a foot against his face. He went down on his stomach, just like Buddy had back in Bombay Shores.

He wasn't smart enough to stay down. He struggled to get up onto his hands and knees. I gave him another boot and that finished him. He stopped his struggle and lay on his stomach, spitting teeth out of his bloodied mouth.

He made an attempt at talking, but I knew I wasn't finished with Jake just yet. For good measure, I made sure Tammi was watching as I smashed his head into the pole. I doubted she'd remember. She was stoned and out of it. It still felt pretty good.

Mission accomplished. Time to get the hell out before the cops showed up.

I remembered passing a door on my way in through the lobby. I opened it and discovered the broom closet and a mop that looked like it hadn't been used in forever. I lit a match, held it to the mop and waited until it caught. For good measure, I waited just a little longer before I tossed it back into the closet. I made sure to leave the door slightly open.

There'd be no charge for the remodel.

Danielle didn't look so good sitting on the back of my bike. My shirt covered up the good parts. What wasn't covered was bruised and bloodied. Whoever did her makeup had smeared it across her face. In other words, she was a hot mess. She shook like there would be no tomorrow—but I knew different.

We both had a tomorrow.

I threw a leg over and she clung to me all the way to her place. I shut down in the driveway and leaned the bike over.

—Am I going to have to wipe that seat down after you slither off?

She smacked me so hard on the back of the head I thought I'd fall off the bike. By now the adrenalin was gone, and we started to laugh. All we had left was each other. I was just happy to be here.

—Damn you, woman. Don't ever do that again.

—Only when you deserve it.

—I wasn't talking about the head-smack. I was talking about your performance on stage. Who did your makeup?

She took off the shirt and walked up the steps, naked. Not bad. I didn't make it a secret I was watching. When she got to the top she turned.

—Are you still packed and ready to go?

—Yes, I am.

—Give me a few minutes. I want to take a shower and make myself presentable again.

—Darlin', you're never not presentable. I was in back of you watching you climb those steps.

—I knew you were watching me when I climbed the steps to the diner too, remember?

She had me there.

When Danielle came out of the bedroom, her bruises were covered with clothes. She even had a little makeup on. Very little.

—You clean up pretty good.

—I would have invited you to share the shower but I wasn't in the mood.

—That's all right. You don't have to make excuses.

—You were packed up before I was, Frank. Do you have any idea where you're headed?

—I heard about a little place out east off the 62. I think I might hole up there for a while. What about you?

—I don't know. I can't stay here any more. I don't want to go back to the Bonita. The diner is gone. I can't go there, either.

—First off I'm headed out to Arizona for a few days. I'm going to pick up a houseboat from a friend and spend a few days floating out on the river. You're welcome to come—no strings.

—I think I'd like to float down a river with not a care in the world. How long will you wait for me?

—I'll wait until you get there. Or we can ride together. Whatever you want to do.

—I'll need a day or so to clean up some things. Where are you going to be?

I gave her the number for the boat outfit and we said our goodbyes.

* * *

**I HEADED EAST** on the 62 and climbed through the valley past the drab, brown three-thousand feet towards the high desert and Buena Vista. On the edge of town I crossed paths with a diner. I had an affinity for those things. A mom-and-pop atmosphere and good food usually went together. If not, it was still pretty hard to screw up coffee and pie.

I didn't notice it from the street, but there was a bike shop attached to it. Someone had hand-painted Vista Cycles on the outside wall. No neon.

A gruff, white-haired old man sitting by himself in a booth yelled something that didn't make any sense. I ignored him and made for the counter.

The name tag said Sandy. She was a short little redhead with long hair, a ready smile and a pretty face. We joked a bit before she passed my order to the cook. He had a smile, too. Christ, what happened with the old man? He had to be the only sourpuss in the place.

When I paid up, Sandy mentioned the place next door had some old bikes on display. I walked in to check it out. The old-timer had relocated his wrinkled fat ass and had it planted in a decrepit wooden chair.

Something told me I needed to beat a path to the door. On the way out I spied the help-wanted posters. One was for a clothing manager and another for something called a ride coordinator—whatever the hell that was.

Back at the counter I got a long-winded explanation from a name-tag that said Jack. When he finished, he handed me an application.

I figured I didn't know anything about clothes except for what I was wearing. On the other hand, a ride coordinator sounded just about my speed.

Better yet, the job was part-time.

I filled out the job ad and left my friend's phone number in Bluewater. If anyone thought I was qualified, they'd be able to reach me there. Then I forgot all about it.

Before I pulled out of the parking lot, I hesitated for only a moment. The road was clear. Traffic was virtually non-existent. Without another thought, I pulled onto the highway and headed east, towards the Colorado.

It was time for something new.

###

**More**

Twisted Sisters

Detective Jim Nash has a problem. He has a murder victim in an alley and a dead woman in his bed. His own homicide division wants to charge him with murder. To say he's got serious commitment problems would be an understatement. He's on the lookout for twins, but he doesn't want to date them. He wants to know who murdered them. A collection of three modern pulp short stories.

Dreams Die Fast

Frank is headed home after spending a long winter on the Baja. When his motorcycle breaks down, he's trapped in an old ghost town on the west side of the Salton Sea. A woman takes pity on Frank and invites him over for a home-cooked meal. Before he knows it, Frank is knee-deep in cartel drugs with a woman itching to pull the trigger on the gun she's pointing at his back.

Dreams Die Hard

Frank is back on the road with a reformed junkie on the run from a cartel hit squad riding bitch on the back of his motorcycle. When the duo end up working at a strip club, the seedy edge of the city finally catches up, forcing Frank to dig deep within to triumph over drugs, greed, arson and murder. Some adult content.

Dreams Never Die

Frank Ross has had his fill of the big city and bright lights. On his way to the Colorado, he catches sight of a diner in a small high-desert town he's passing through. His decision to stop in for pie and coffee is rewarded when the friendly waitress tells him about the job posting next door. He fills out an application for a part-time job in the old-school bike shop, and his life is forever changed when he accepts.

Fast Food Slow Waitress

A biker hits all the high spots (or the low spots, depending on your point of view). These short stories find him at a peeler bar off the 15 in Montana; encountering a hitch-hiker off the 10 in New Mexico; being sweet-talked by his landlady; romancing a truck-driving sweetheart in a sleeper at a California truck stop; flirting with a waitress in a restaurant in the high desert. This is an updated and revised version of First Time and other stories previously published.

Dead Reckoning

During a well-deserved R&R on mainland Mexico, Harry picks up something he doesn't own that forces him to flee across the Sea of Cortez to the Baja. While hiding out on an isolated beach, two mysterious gringas show up to complicate Harry's life by attempting to implicate him in their own scheme, resulting in a mad dash up the Baja to escape the consequences of their actions.

Long Way Home

When Harry's ex-wife, Sasha, and their daughter accompany her oil-company boyfriend on a working vacation to Africa, the trio goes missing. They get out a call for help that will lead Harry on an air and ground chase across the Horn of Africa to rescue his family before kidnappers can move them to their den on the Indian Ocean.

Out of the Past

Harry's comfortable family life is turned upside down when he gets a phone call from a former comrade he thought long dead. When the second call comes in an hour later, the caller asks for his help. He knows his life will never be the same until he can learn what happened to the woman who launched a rescue mission to save his life after his plane was destroyed during a firefight on a bush landing strip in East Africa.

**About**

Peter Duke's gypsy spirit has taken him to some strange places in the world, but now he's content to limit his adventures to riding a motorcycle and whatever he might encounter when he's on the road. Consequently, he's worked in bike shops doing odd jobs from planning and putting on rides, taking care of computer networking and security, and to picking up and delivering motorcycles in the El Lay basin, among other things.

Pretty boring stuff, isn't it?

He's ridden over a lot of North America at one time or another from Canada to Mexico, and from Atlantic to Pacific. By far his favorite ride is up and down the length of the Baja Peninsula, where the people are friendly, the sun always shines and it's warm in the winter.

Of everything that he has experienced in his all-too-brief life, Africa is perhaps the greatest enigma. It's a beautiful continent, rich in people, nature and resources, yet poor in all of those areas too.

There are some missing years in there, but a little mystery is good for the soul, wouldn't you say?

http://pxduke.com

author@pxduke.com

