A Week In Hel (7 page)

“
What happens if I’m
straight with you? I’m not stupid enough to figure that you’ll
forget what’s happened tonight.”

Her hands covered mine on
her knee, and our fingers were partly interlaced. She wasn’t
offering anything by doing that, and I didn’t take advantage of it.
It was nice just being there with her, but she had a point. I
needed to choose my next move carefully.

“
Let’s get into that. Let’s
say you’re straight with me? Those guys can’t hurt you if you
decide you’re leavin’ that life behind and you do. But when you
flirt with both sides of the line, that’s when you get
hurt.”

“
Are you trying to be my
hero again?”

For some reason this turned
my knob, something about the whole business seemed wrong just
then.

“
No, but you keep asking me
if I like you, and every time I try to do something to let you know
I like you, you come off with this crap.”

She let that cook for a
minute while I passed a couple of trucks.

“
So you do like
me?”

She sounded excited again.
The next thing I know she’s got my hand north of her knee cap far
enough to get my attention.

Again, she wasn’t really
securing my hand in that position, but she wanted me to know that
she was perfectly fine with it being there.

I let it rest there for a
couple of minutes so she wouldn’t think I was put off by her, and
then I moved it back to the wheel. I didn’t want either one of us
to start something we didn’t plan to finish.

“
Let’s save that for later.
We were getting someplace.”

“
Oh you’re getting me places
alright.”

She took my hand again and
squeezed it before returning it to her knee. She smiled up at me
and I sort of smiled back. I couldn’t help myself.

“
So where were
we?”

“
You were about to tell me
all about how you got tied up in Angelo Delapina’s racket on
Pleasant Hill.”

I was watching the road, so
she couldn’t manipulate me with those brown eyes. Despite attempts
to ignore it, I did feel them on my face.

“
No, I was telling you about
how I knew Steve Stamper, and how he and my aunt took up together
when I left home.”

“
Yeah, well you didn’t
finish. You were on with that trying to distract me.”

She squeezed my
hand.

“
Well that was pretty much
it. I left home after high school and one morning I went over to do
my laundry, and they were naked and sharing a blanket on the couch
when I walked in. You’d think as much fuss as she made over me
having a boyfriend in my room once, that she was some kind of nun.
He was holding her close on the narrow couch. She just looked up at
me and smiled and held out her ring.

“
He did it, Candi. He made
an honest woman out of me.”

She looked up at me just
then and her eyes were wet.

“
I can’t imagine bein’ that
much in love with somebody and not...”

She puckered up and I
thought she was gonna have a full on bawl just then.

“
Okay, I get it. But what
happened with White Walls, and how the hell did you wind up workin’
that joint after your aunt married Stamper?”

“
Work there, hell I got a
call one day from some lawyer that told me the place was mine,” she
hissed. “Truth was, I could act like it was mine, and file and pay
taxes like it was mine as long as I played the game for The Outfit,
but it ain’t really mine.”

I saw the lights of the
truck stop off to the right up ahead and I dropped over one lane.
When the exit came up, I followed it around and hooked a right into
the parking area. Since I was in a car and not a big rig, I pulled
right up near the door. I planned to take a table that would allow
me to watch the door, my car, and a good piece of the
lot.

“
Shouldn’t we like park way
in the back or something? What if they come looking for us
again?”

“
I don’t think we need to.
This isn’t a place known for its mob activity.”

She shot me a look like she
was pissed. I liked her well enough, but not enough to forget that
I’d had somebody shove a gun in my face twice on her
account.

We got out of the car and
went inside. The conditioned air was much cooler than the hot and
humid wet blanket that hung outside. I walked past the sign that
directed, ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’, and headed for the corner
table I wanted. Candi was right behind me, stuck like
glue.

She slid into the booth and
I sat down beside her. I had the feeling she was gonna dish about
the rackets on the Hill, but I was getting tired of pressing
her.

The truck stop was your
usual chain deal. The dining room was done up in flat white paint
with knotty pine wainscoting and trimmed out nice with a border
around the top of the walls, with different kinds of trucks printed
on it.

“
My old man used to love the
food in joints like this.”

She looked up at me when I
said it, like she was hanging on my every word.

“
Your old man was a cop and
liked truck stop food, and married an old fashioned girl. Other
than the marriage, your apple didn’t fall far from the tree did
it?”

I was starting to relax a
bit. The only other people in the joint were a beefy guy sitting
next to a smaller, fitter military type in flannel, and a grizzled
looking old couple sitting near the door.

“
Yeah, I guess not. I carry
granddad’s gun at work sometimes.”

She was into me. I could
tell by the way she was so interested in what I had to
say.

“
Oh? Is it a lucky
one?”

“
Granddad was in the thick
of it. He never put a lot of stock in shooting people, even if they
shot at him. He’d beat ‘em stupid because they were more likely to
learn a lesson. Dad on the other hand, didn’t want a shooting on
his conscience. Don’t get me wrong, he was a tough bastard, as
tough as they come, but he liked people enough to trust
them.”

I was starting to feel
lonesome for the old folks and on the narrow edge of pissed off
when the worn out old screw came to take our order. Her greasy blue
and tattletale gray uniform had seen better days and her piled up
hair-do smelled of rancid grease and cigarette smoke.

“
Hi there, how are you kids
doin’ tonight?”

The waitress’s eyes fell on
the dried blood on Candi’s cracked, swollen lip and the bruise
rising on her cheek and gave me a shameful look.

Candi followed her gaze and
smiled, realizing that the waitress had the wrong idea.

“
It’s okay honey, he ain’t
the one responsible.”

That waitress was eyeballing
me trying to figure if Candi was trying to play her
false.

“
Damn shame if you ask me,
any man puts his paws on a pretty girl like you.”

This old broad wasn’t your
everyday run of the mill busybody, she was really concerned. I got
the impression maybe somebody took the liberty of knocking her
around at some point. I personally find that kind of behavior rude
and intolerable. I thought about asking her where to find the
bastard and thought better of it.

When the hag finished giving
me the business, she looked back at Candi for another moment,
checking out her dress I think.

“
What were you kids gonna
have tonight?”

I glanced at Candi, who
seemed to be waiting on me.

“
I want a steak and a baked
potato, and do you guys still have that Bohemia Style Beer, that
comes in the flip bottle?”

The waitress looked at me
like she could appreciate a man who knew what he wanted.

“
What cut of steak,
honey—Rib eye, Strip, or Porter? Yes we still have your beer Not
many young guys like the stuff.”

I have to give it to her,
the gal didn’t miss a beat.

“
Porter.”

She scribbled on her pad and
looked at Candi, who ordered a New York Strip, a baked potato and a
glass of iced tea.

The waitress screwed her
hairdo around toward the counter and her body followed a second
later as she took off after the beefy fellow.

“
Charlie, you big stick.
Don’t you run off without paying for your meal!”

I rolled my eyes and got up.
I went after him out the door. He couldn’t run worth a shit but
he’d outrun the waitress. I loped after him and caught him half way
between the door and the big rig he was running for.

I came up on his left side
and barred his arm.

“
Come on numb nuts; pay the
lady for your meal. Crime don’t pay.”

“
Why don’t you mind your own
business. Ain’t no cops around here and you might get your ass
busted.”

Okay, he gets a checkmark by
his name. I understand he don’t know I’m a cop, but he’s not only
made off with free grub, he’s just written a check against his
ass.

“
Look palooka, I am a cop.”
I said it slow, without the nonsense.

He shot me a look and then
committed himself to the mistake he was making. He tried to give me
a shove but I gave his arm a sharp yank.

He winced and tried to shove
me again.

“
Look pal, you got two
choices for the way this plays out. You can knock this shit off; we
can walk inside and you can pay the lady, or you can grab some
concrete and take a ride in the vomit-scented back seat of a patrol
car. It ought to be a good time considering the heat and
all.”

He must have been weighing
his options. A lot of guys smart up once you put things into terms
they can understand. He didn’t immediately make an effort of
stopping.

“
Look man, if I gotta take
you down it’s gonna get ugly for you. If you go back and pay, no
harm done. You were just getting your wallet.”

He gave me a hard look just
then and stopped. I started to steer him around by his arm but he
didn’t move. He planted his feet and held up a hand.

“
Look man, my rig’s right
over there. Last night some lot lizard got me when I first pulled
in. She hooked my wallet or somethin’. I can’t find it
anyplace.”

“
Let’s go over there and
look, but if you try anything, I’ll call the state patrol and then
it gets to be something else.”

He gave me that hard look
again and walked off in the direction of the truck. I looked back
toward the restaurant and then followed him.

The guy walked to the
passenger door of a midnight blue truck cab and jammed a key into
the lock. He fiddled with it for a moment and pulled up on the
handle. The door popped open and much to his surprise, and mine, a
young, hard looking woman stuck her head out from between the
seats.

“
What the hell are you doing
in there? You got my wallet. You looking for my checkbook
next?”

“
Well I um...” She was
obviously shocked that she’d been caught.

“
Come on, out of the
truck.”

She started down and he
pulled her off the step and sort of slung her at me. I gave her the
business and she admitted to having made an, ‘ahem’, barter of
services. She wasn’t going to admit to hooking his wallet until I
mentioned that I was going to call the sheriff’s office.

“
If there’s anything you
want to say to this guy, I’d advise you to do it. I’m about half a
second from callin’ county. If you tell me no, and they find it on
you, it bumps this thing up a notch and it gets worse from
there.”

She fussed around with her
tote bag for a couple of minutes and finally opened it and began
rummaging through it. She finally handed over a worn out wallet
with a single chain link fastened to a grommet at the
corner.

The guy opened it and spread
it wide, even stuffing a fat finger in looking for money. He
unzipped another pocket and eyeballed it.

“
What about my money? I paid
you a hundred bucks, but you took my whole wallet, eleven hundred
bucks in cash and checks.”

She held up a hand in
denial.

“
Look, I can call somebody
to come out here and pat you down, but then you go downtown for
hawking ass. Give him his money or go for a ride in the bubble-gum
taxi.”

I reached in my pocket, like
making for my cuffs.

She shook her head in
protest and gave me a hard look.

“
All right baby, here ya go,
a full fuckin’ refund.” She pulled down the right cup of her tank
bra and pulled out a handful of cash. She tucked the tank top under
her exposed breast and flipped through the folded money.

“
Here.” She shoved a pile of
money at him. While he was counting it, she stuffed the rest back
into the cup of her top. She gave me the eye and then made a show
of flopping her breast back into her top.

I looked at him. He must
have counted his dough five or six times.

“
Is it all
there?”