Free Vendetta Trail by Robert Vaughan Page B

is not good to ask such things,” Pietro replied.
    Rachel heard another popping sound and another cry.
    “Please…don’t,” she heard. She recognized Evangeline’s voice, even though it was muffled and filled with pain.
    “Shut up, bitch,” she heard Vizzini say. “I’ve bought and paid for you. You’ll do any damn thing I want.”
     
    Hawke was passing by the bottom of the stairs, carrying a cup of coffee he had just gotten from the kitchen, when heheard the exchange. Stopping, he looked up toward the top of the stairs and waited for a moment.
    “You said that if I let you come back, you wouldn’t hurt me anymore,” he heard Evangeline say. “You promised.”
    He heard a man’s laughter. “Since when does a promise made to a whore mean anything?”
    “It’s Evangeline,” Clarisse said when she saw Hawke standing at the foot of the stairs.
    Hawke nodded. “Yes, I know. It’s Vizzini again, isn’t it?”
    “I’m afraid so. He is such an evil person.”
    “Maybe someone should have a talk with him,” Hawke suggested.
    “Yes, but who would have the courage?” Clarisse asked.
    Hawke returned to his piano, but he kept a close eye on the stairs. When he saw Vizzini coming down the stairs, he cut his song short, in order to keep an eye on Evangeline’s abuser. Then, when Vizzini went out the front door, Hawke stepped out the back.
    The night creatures were singing as Hawke stood in the gazebo, waiting. The dark air was warm, moist, and malodorous with the stench of the outhouse that sat back in the corner.
    As he knew he would, Vizzini headed toward the outhouse to relieve himself before he started home. Hawke waited until he unbuttoned his pants, then Hawke suddenly stepped behind him and grabbed him.
    “Here!” Vizzini said in sharp fear. “What are you doing?”
    “I’m throwing your ass in the toilet,” Hawke said in a hissing whisper.
    “What? Do you know who I am?”
    “I know exactly who you are, Vizzini,” Hawke said. “You are a piece of shit.”
    Hawke grabbed Vizzini by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his pants. With one powerful lift, he picked Vizzini up.
    “What are you…arrrghh!” Vizzini shouted, though his final words were mumbled when his head was submerged in the honey bucket beneath the only hole of the one-hole toilet.

Chapter 13
    BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE, CLARISSE AND THE OTHERS were blissfully unaware of what had just taken place outside. When Hawke came back in, Clarisse assumed that he had just stepped out for a little air or perhaps to use the toilet. Hawke went immediately to the piano and started playing again.
    Clarisse was standing at the foot of the stairs when Rachel came down. The height of the evening had not yet been reached, and there were still several men and women in the parlor.
    “Good evening, Clarisse,” Rachel said as she passed the madam of the house.
    “Good evening, Rachel. How did it go with Mr. Franchetti?”
    “He seemed well satisfied,” Rachel said.
    Clarisse stared at Rachel for a long moment. “Honey, why do you do this kind of work if you hate it so?”
    “I’ve never said I hated it,” Rachel replied.
    Clarisse put her hand on Rachel’s neck and squeezed it gently. “You don’t have to say it, dear. It’s written on your face like a book.”
    “Oh,” Rachel said. “I’m sorry. I hope the men don’t think…”
    Clarisse interrupted her with a laugh. “Honey, men don’t think. Period,” she said. “When a beautiful girl like you spreads her legs for them, all their thoughts and feelings are in one place.”
    Rachel laughed with her.
    “I understand you got a letter from Louise.”
    “Yes, a couple of weeks ago.”
    “How is she doing?”
    “She’s doing fine.”
    “I’m real glad about that. I miss her. She was a sweet girl.”
    Suddenly the front door opened and Vizzini stepped inside. He let out a loud yell.
    “Who did this?” he shouted angrily. His sudden entrance brought all other activity to a