AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I appreciate it. Un-marked only, and have them park a ways away. Play it so below the level James Dean would be jealous they’re being so cool.”
“Not a problem.”
“Also, he’s got something else in store. For me.”
“How so?”
“He’s gotten away scot-free. I’ve never even seen him, and now he wants a face-to-face meeting? Hand off a victim?”
“Be careful,” Clevenger says. He can smell it just like I do. “Sounds like he wants to kill you.”
“He’s going to have to get in line,” I say and pull up next to the Old Cecil’s Bar. Game on.
31
The thing about Old Cecil’s Bar is this: there is an old Old Cecil’s Bar, and a new Old Cecil’s Bar.
The original one—the old old one—was in a building that was trying to earn historic status. During the city inspection of it so many structural problems were exposed, the building was emptied for renovations. Not too long ago Old Cecil’s Bar moved three blocks over to a better location. The original site still had Cecil’s marquee up and I arrive there.
Anyway, I arrive and not more than thirty seconds later a man steps around the corner, looking respectable in decent khakis and a button-down shirt, on his arm the shivering secretary. They never look the way they sound.
“I want to commend you for the fire over at Petticoat’s,” I say as I walk up to him. “It shows you’re not the biggest pussy in the world for only hurting women.”
The rapist smiles. I absorb his every detail. Line, curve and mark. An eighth-inch scar near his mouth from where his childhood cat clawed at him? Got it. Crow’s feet around his eyes means he’s around forty and probably Irish? Got that, too. Nicotine stain on his front right tooth from where he smokes right-handed and mindlessly puts the cigarette on that side of his mouth.
“I’m much more than some sex-starved pervert living in his mother’s basement,” he says. The secretary is so wild-eyed and frazzled I’m honestly surprised she can walk. Standing next to him, she trembles and is bolt-still. “I am holding all the cards here.”
“Let her go,” I say, bracing. “She’s just some broad who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I rather enjoy her scent. I think I’ll keep her here.” His lower lip never moves as he speaks. His tongue curls around his every word like a sexual examination before they’re allowed to leave his mouth.
“If she gets hurt, I promise I will make this last longer than your sanity can go.”
“So furious over a disposable woman you don’t know? I never understood the drive some men have towards protecting things that just aren’t worth their own weight in dog shit.”
“Try me.”
He chuckles at that, like it’s some inside joke. “Why do you think I asked for this meet?”
“I figured you wanted this meet to turn yourself in,” I say, wondering where Clevenger’s boys are.
The rapist always keeps one hand behind the secretary. I imagine he’s got a heater pressed to her back. I watch that shoulder; any flicker and I draw my iron here and lay an egg in his forehead.
“I wanted to see you upright before we part ways,” he says. He smirks and radiates a sense of confidence that says he’s never been tested. He’s just always gotten away with whatever it is he does. I would love the opportunity to shatter that like cheap ceramic. “No cops, right, Dick?”
“None.” Clevenger’s boys should be around here somewhere. Just waiting, waiting, waiting...
“Very good,” the rapist slithers. “Glad I picked Old Cecil’s Bar and not the new one.”
“Me too.” Now I know where Clevenger’s boys are. The sinking in my gut tells me so. “Funny story. I’d always get a beer here after I locked up a member of your kind.”
“My kind, eh? I’m not a freak, Dick.”
“Oh thank God. I’ll tell Mrs. Petticoat a normal man did that to her.”
“You can tell her that, if you want,” he says, again with that unchallenged grin. “When you meet her in hell.”
His arm still behind the secretary, that shoulder I’ve been watching, it moves.
