by anna snow
"Dickie's eating." Gerald scowled down at me. The jagged scar running down the side of his face appeared darker than the last time I'd seen him.
"Yes, I see that, but I need to speak with him. It's of the utmost importance."
"I don't care. Dickie isn't talking to anyone today. Now, go away."
I was about to protest, but before I could say another word, Dickie stepped in.
"Gerald," Dickie said calmly from his table. "Let the lady pass."
Gerald groaned low, and his lips thinned. "Arms up. I need to check you for weapons."
"No need," I said then reached down, removed my ankle holster, and handed him my weapon.
"Yes, there is a need." He took my gun and slid it into the back waistband of his pants then proceeded to frisk me.
"No need, eh?" Gerald said as he put his first two fingers into my jeans front pocket and pulled out the small pink pocketknife Tyler had suggested I start carrying.
Gerald wiggled it in front of my face.
I shrugged with my palms pointed toward the sky.
"She's good, Gerald. Let Ms. Jackson go."
I looked at Dickie with surprise. "You remember me?"
"Of course I do, Ms. Jackson. I never forget a face, especially one as beautiful as yours." He removed his black fedora and hung it on the back of the chair beside him then adjusted his black tie.
"Go on," Gerald said gruffly and slid my knife into his pocket. "You're clean."
"You smell okay yourself," I smarted off. Probably not the best idea, but I couldn't help myself.
Silas and I started to step forward when Gerald pressed a hand to Silas's chest to stop him. "Not you."
"Why?" I asked him.
"Mr. Myers said to let you through. Not him." Gerald peered down at me through black eyes.
I looked to Dickie who was studiously watching our exchange.
"I go if she goes," Silas said in a voice much more confident than I was sure he felt.
"No." Gerald's expression never changed. He never looked away from me when he spoke to Silas.
"Pat him down, Gerald, then let him and the little filly through."
Gerald's scowl deepened as he stepped forward and began to pat down Silas.
He stood up a moment later.
"Hmm." Gerald shook his head with a curious expression.
"What?" Silas asked boldly.
Gerald met his eyes. "I'm just surprised is all. By the looks of you, I kind of expected to find a pink Taser strapped to your thigh."
And this is where I earned my Bad Friend Card. I laughed. Hard and loud. I slapped my hand over my mouth when Silas glared at me. "Sorry."
"Sure you are." Silas narrowed his eyes at me.
I glanced at Gerald as he turned his back to us and caught the corner of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. He schooled his features before I could be certain that he was smiling.
We walked the last few feet to Dickie's table, and he stood upon our approach.
"It's good to see you again, Ms. Jackson." He shook my hand. "Who's your friend?" He tilted his head toward Silas then stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks.
"This is Silas," I said. "He's helping me on a case this week," I explained.
He eyed Silas for a moment with a stony expression then gestured toward the seat across from him. "Have a seat."
Silas pulled out my chair, and I sat, and then he did the same. His eyes wandered from Dickie to Gerald then back to Dickie.
"Don't mind Gerald," Dickie said as he motioned behind us. "He's a little on edge today because he missed his morning coffee."
I knew exactly how he felt. For someone who practically lived on coffee, I was surprised that I hadn't gone bat-crap crazy on some poor unsuspecting person from lack of caffeine.
"Besides, he won't harm you…unless I tell him to, that is," Dickie grinned and winked at me then took a small bite of the steak on the plate in front of him.
He chewed the bite of food, placed his silverware on the plate, and then patted his mouth with a napkin. "Now, what can I help you with, Ms. Jackson?" He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his black tie again.
"I'm just going to get right to it," I said.
"I'd expect nothing less from you," Dickie smiled.
"I'm going to assume that you've seen the news this morning."
He nodded.
"Well, the rock star who was murdered that everyone is talking about was my best friend's boyfriend. The cops seem to think she's the one who killed him. Now, don't get me wrong." I held my hand up. "I wouldn't blame her if she did knock him off—he was a real piece of work—but in this case, she didn't."
"What does any of this have to do with me?" he asked curiously. "I didn't have any dealings with that Reynolds character. I never even met the guy." Dickie shrugged his slightly round shoulders, laced his fingers, and rested his hands across his stomach.
"I didn't figure you knew Mark personally."
"So, what are you needing from me?" Dickie asked again. "You wouldn't be here unless you thought I could help you."
"I need to know where a person could purchase, oh say—" I drew a circle on the white tablecloth in front of me with the tip of my finger and shrugged one shoulder. "—a gun or something a little more suited for recreational use?"
"Why Ms. Jackson," Dickie said with a mischievous grin and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the edge of the table. "Are you, the girlfriend of a detective, asking me where you can buy illegal guns and drugs?"
I smiled and shook my head. "Don't get it twisted," I said and leaned back in my chair. "I'm asking purely for research purposes."
"Research, huh." He rubbed his clean-shaven chin and looked curiously at me. "Tell me the real deal, and I might be persuaded to help you."
Telling someone like Dickie the Bookie the ins and outs of an active murder investigation wasn't something I considered to be a good idea, and I was sure Tyler would poop a chicken if he knew I was even considering doing such a thing, but what other option did I have?
None. In this line of work, a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
I glanced over at Silas, and he raised his eyebrows at me. "Why not?" he said and laced his fingers behind his head, which I was sure was an attempt to appear more relaxed.
I leaned forward, repeated Dickie's movements by placing my forearms on the table, and lowered my voice. "Between you and me?"
Dickie nodded. "Between you and me. You have my word that what is said here will go no further."
Dickie prided himself on his word, so I knew there was no way he'd tell anyone what I told him in confidence.
"A gun and some drugs were found under a floorboard in the victim's apartment. The gun had its serial number scratched off."
"An illegally purchased weapon." Dickie nodded his head slowly.
"Exactly," I agreed. "My friend didn't kill him," I said with conviction. "But someone is framing her. She has no memory of anything, not even being at his apartment."
"She was drugged." He continued nodding.
"I think so, too," I agreed. "But when the police showed up at her place the next morning to tell her the news of her boyfriend's death and to question her whereabouts, they woke her, and she had—I'm assuming until the test results come back—Mark's blood on her hands."
Dickie looked thoughtful for a long moment. He glanced over at Silas then back at me.
"If I can't get a solid lead on who might have killed Mark and some evidence to back up my claim before the blood and toxicology results come back, Kelly could be headed straight to jail."
Dickie nibbled his bottom lip and nodded. "All right. I think I can help you." He leaned back. "But like everything else in this world, my information comes with a price."
"I figured it would," I said evenly. "What exactly do you want in exchange?"
Dickie blew out a breath and looked up at the sky then back to me.
"Let's just say that you owe me one."
"I al
ready owe you one from the last time you helped me," I reluctantly reminded him.
"I remember," he said with a smile. "Now you'll owe me double."
I didn't like knowing I owed Dickie anything, and I had no clue what he would come asking from me when he decided to cash in his rain checks. But at this moment I was in a bind, and Kelly's life was on the line. I wasn't willing to gamble with my friend's life. If Dickie could give me some answers, I had to agree to his terms. There was no way around it.
"Deal. But as before," I held up a finger. "I won't do, or help you do, anything illegal."
"Of course not," Dickie said and smiled. "I'd never ask anything of the sort from you."
His small blue eyes twinkled in the afternoon light. Trouble. Even if I had no idea who the man sitting across from me was, I'd have known just by the look in his eyes that he was trouble with a capital T.
"Now that that's settled." Dickie relaxed. "I know a few guys who deal in what you're looking for, but there's one in particular that comes to mind. The thing is—" He frowned. "—he won't do business with just anyone, and he and I aren't exactly the best of friends."
"And why is that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"We'll get to that in just a moment," he assured me then continued. "This guy deals in both guns and drugs, whereas most of the others I know about around here only deal in either one or the other. His name is Tommy Hunter, but everyone knows him as Tommy Two-Toes…because I cut the other eight off when he refused to pay me what he owed me."
Gerald, who had moved to stand beside the table where he could watch the entrance, smiled over his shoulder at Dickie before resuming his watch.
Silas, on the other hand, gasped like a fish out of water. I was going to have to teach him how to school his features when working on a case.
Dickie grinned at his expression.
"I can see how that would stress your relationship," I said with more understanding than I actually felt.
"Tommy lives down on the south side of town, but he does business right around where your rock star lived."
"I thought you said you didn't know Mark?"
"I didn't," Dickie answered easily. "But when someone who's high profile is killed in my town, I like to find out a little bit more about them…just in case."
I nodded. "So, how do I go about meeting Mr. Two-Toes?"
"Tommy isn't a big player. He's one of the smaller fish in this sea of illegal activities, but he tries to act like he isn't. He has his cronies," he said lightly. "But none like Gerald," he said proudly. "He likes to work his guys off of an alley a few blocks down from the blues club downtown. He mostly sells drugs out of that location. He catches people who are out looking to party and try new things." He motioned the waitress over. She took his empty glass and replaced it with a new one. "If he gets even the slightest idea that you might be a cop or something like one, he won't hesitate to bolt or worse." He looked at me seriously and despite the heat of the afternoon, a chill ran down my spine. "Be careful. We wouldn't want you to get hurt now. Would we?"
"So, I guess it's safe to say that I should leave your name out of our meeting?" I smiled and tried to act like Dickie's warning didn't spook me.
"You'd be right," he agreed. "Another thing—he likes the ladies." He waggled his eyebrows.
"As in…"
Dickie grinned. "He likes to pay to play, and from what I understand, he gets pretty loose-lipped when riled up by a pretty lady." He stood and shook my hand then saluted Silas with two fingers.
I stood and pushed my chair in. Gerald handed me my gun and pocketknife, and I slid them back in place around my ankle and in my pocket.
I had a feeling Dickie wasn't a fan of Silas for whatever reason.
"It was nice doing business with you again, Ms. Jackson. I'll be in touch."
"I'm sure you will be." I smiled then nodded once, turned, and left.
Once off the terrace, we hurried out of the building and over to the car.
I cranked up the air conditioner and pulled out of the gate then turned in the direction that would take us back to my place.
Once back on the highway, Silas asked, "So, what's the plan?"
"You're not going to like it," I said.
Silas sighed. "I was worried you were going to say that."
CHAPTER NINE
I slipped my feet into the most uncomfortable contraptions ever created by mankind then leaned down and adjusted the strap around my ankle.
"These heels are too high," I complained and tried unsuccessfully to wiggle my toes.
"Not for the look that you're going for," Mona said as she pulled up the zipper on the back of the dress I'd just squeezed myself into.
I never wore clothing this tight. I felt like a ham in a can and was certain that I looked like a busted can of biscuits. The only upside to this entire situation I currently found myself in was that Tyler wouldn't see me dressed like I belonged on a corner of Hollywood Boulevard after hours.
"Are you sure that this is going to work?" Mandy asked from the end of my bed where she held her laptop and my schedule book. "This is a little too dangerous in my opinion," she argued and reached over to pet Mickey. He purred and snuggled up beside her. "Is Silas going with you at least?" she asked.
"Yes," I said and grabbed hold of the top of the strapless gold dress. I tugged upward in an attempt to contain the girls but failed miserably.
"He'd just follow me if I tried to leave him behind, and if Tyler finds out what I'm up to, he won't be as upset if he knows that I have backup, even if it is Silas."
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, grabbed the top of the dress again, jumped up and down, gave a little shimmy then gave up and blew a strand of hair out of my face. I much preferred to have my hair pulled up and out of my face while working, but Mona assured me that wearing my hair down in wild waves would top off the disguise.
The dress was too short, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was just going to have to live with either my butt covered and boobs half out or my boobs covered and my butt half out.
"Besides," I said and moved as quickly as I could in the ridiculous red heels to the dresser. "I'm just going to talk to the guy—that's all." I put on the pair of oversized gold hoop earrings Mona brought over. "If he is the one who sold Mark the gun and drugs, that gives us enough against him to have Tyler take a closer look at him."
I looked myself over in the mirror one last time. I had on so much makeup it looked like Mona had slathered it on my face with a putty knife. The shiny gold dress hugged my curves so tight that if I took too deep a breath, the thing was going to rip off just like the Incredible Hulk's T-shirt when he was angry.
And the shoes? I felt like a newborn giraffe.
"I still think this is a bad idea," Mandy said. "What if he figures out that you're not…" She motioned up and down at my new hooker look.
"Dickie said this guy likes the ladies. Especially the kind you pay for, so I figured that this was my best bet at getting anything useful out of him. All I have to do is keep my game face on, and everything will be fine."
She shook her head and shifted her attention back to Mickey.
"Just be careful. You don't know this guy." Mona looked at me seriously. "I don't want you to be hurt, and I don't want to be the one who faces Tyler's wrath if something happens to you." Mona handed me a gold purse with a chain strap.
I wasn't about to ask my dear old auntie why she had this particular outfit lying around in her closet. There were just some things that a woman doesn't need to know about the woman who helped raise her.
"I'll be careful," I promised her. "Are you going back to Silas's to be with Kelly?"
Mona shook her head. "She told us to take a hike for a few hours, so we're going to grab a late dinner before we head back over there."
"Apparently, we were driving her crazy." Mandy set Mickey aside and stood then gathered her purse.
"That's Kelly for you. She doesn't like to be ho
vered over, and this entire situation has to be making her crazy. She can't go out without taking the risk of running into Mark's wild fans. I would be going crazy if I was her."
"Between you and Tyler, one of you will figure this whole thing out, and things will get right back to normal," Mona assured me.
I took a deep breath then held out my arms. "Well, how do I look?"
"Like if someone waved a twenty at you, you'd hop into the car like your butt was on fire." Mona grinned.
"Perfect."
I locked the door and set the alarm as the three of us left the house.
It was dark when I pulled up in front of Silas's building. He was waiting there, leaning against the side of the building in a pair of black slacks and a tight white dress shirt. His dirty-blond hair was gelled into the perfect style to suit his angular face. He looked like he'd just stepped off the cover of GQ.
He jogged over to the car and slid inside.
"Whoa." He chuckled and pressed a hand to his chest. "Look at you. What will a twenty get me?"
"Go ahead. Get it all out."
He laughed. "Where on Earth did you get that outfit?"
"Mona."
He laughed even harder. "That figures. I knew there was no way that came out of your closet."
I didn't know why, but his assumption that I wouldn't have anything sexy or, in this case, trashy in my closet rankled me.
"And just why the hell not?" I asked, affronted.
His laughter died down, and he smiled at me. "Don't get all bent out of shape. All I meant was that this—" He waved a hand in front of me. "—just isn't you. You don't have to show all of your business to get a man's attention. Jeans and a T-shirt, your sarcastic mouth, those full lips, and that sweet wavy blonde hair of yours are all you need."
I looked at him for a moment. "Thanks. I know about you and Kelly," I blurted. "Well, that you're interested in her, I mean."
I don't know why I brought the subject up so abruptly. It just sort of fell out of my mouth.
"I know you do." He smiled easily and relaxed back in his seat. "My feelings for Kelly started to grow a month ago."
I'm not sure what I expected him to say at my revelation, but his answer surprised me.
