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other.
    “ By now, I’m sure you don’t
want to hear anything I have to say,” she took the words right out
of my mouth, “but you have to understand, I’ve tried to stay out of
the mess The Outfit runs in Pleasant Hill, but now things have
gotten to the point where I need to get out.”
    I nodded. My eyes never left
her and she seemed to age right in front of me. She relaxed a
little when she realized I was listening and she started to
unfold.
    “ You’re right not to trust
me. Those guys think I’ve told you about their rackets. Either way,
numbers or protection, or talking about the way they shake down a
joint by butting into the business. The worst though is when they
strip all the cash out, and then run up the debts on the owner
before they torch the place. That’s if you cooperate. Otherwise,
they just outright kill you.” Her tone was grave, and she looked a
little pale.
    This was all sounding pretty
large for a barmaid from the hill, and I was only giving her
partial credit until the next—
    “ So why haven’t they killed
you yet?” I just laid it out there. Admittedly, I was just trying
to bait her into another round of tears.
    “ They can’t. Like Antonio
told you, I got something that they like more than hurting people
who are too afraid to say no.”
    Even a brick of ballistic
goop like me knows that the only thing the mob likes more than
blood is money made off of strong-arming people who worked hard to
get it.
    “ Money?” I asked for the
sake of rhetoric, whoever the hell he is. I already knew, and she
knew I knew.
    She smiled and nodded. “A
lot of money. The kind of cash that can get you killed.”
    “ How much is that?” Like I
said, I’m not real smart when it comes to committing
crimes.
    She gave me a look, like I’m
over cooking her grits. “I already told you, about four million
dollars.”
    I was just floored, thinking
about all the arbitrary stuff people say; raining cats & dogs,
penny for your thoughts, rob Peter to pay Paul, and it takes a
barmaid to bag the big bucks.
    “ Was that really in your
duffle bag?” I knew she was gonna say yes, I just knew
it.
    She gave me her big brown
eyes again, and nodded.
    Sometimes I hate being
right.
    “ Yes, I told you that
already.” She was working those eyes again, and it was getting on
my nerves, bad.
    “ You know these aren’t the
kind of people who go to the police?” I knew she knew, but I had to
say so.
    A few minutes later Hazel
brought our food. She sat a glass of red wine on the table in front
of Candi, and left a mug of black coffee for me.
    “ You might just want to
leave me the pot,” I said to Hazel, who grinned at Candi like they
were setting me up for something. A few minutes later, she returned
with the pot and a second glass of wine for Candi.
    The nutty aroma of the
steaming mug was more enticing than that of the slab of meat and
baked potato, never mind the salad. I took a sip of it and felt
rejuvenated. I downed half the cup. The night was getting long in
the tooth, and I wasn’t up for any more funny business.
    “ So what’s your angle with
The Outfit? I know you gave me the song and dance about your dear
sainted mother, but I’m not buyin’. Give me the beans, or I’ll
drive you down to the brewery district and kick your ass out of the
car and scram, but not before I dump your ill-gotten gains all over
Delapina’s playground.”
    She recoiled as if I’d
offended her. I knew better, but I didn’t let on. She was a regular
Red Skelton—a broad of a thousand faces, and the one she was giving
me now had poker written all over it. The subtle way that she went
from pouty, to jinxy-minxy was sort of sensually deceptive in its
way. She wasn’t any too happy that I was on to her.
    “ Look, I’m here to get and
you’re here to give answers. Another way to play your angle is that
I have probable cause to believe that you’ve robbed the owner of
White Walls.”
    She gulped hard, “That’s
what the other