the unmoving body of the dancer. "Good-bye, Juliana," he said, "I'll never forget you." He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I hate to leave you like this, but I've got to go." Pulling on his shirt, he gathered her into his arms. "It's a nothing little place, name of Carruthers, Texas. Something has happened there, something I need to look into. Maybe Billy boy, here, can help."
He sat Juliana down in front of the laundromat and knelt in front of her. A breeze ruffled her blond hair. The face of the dancer was calm in death, but whatever controlled Billy T saw a trace of sadness in the beautiful, composed features. "You won't ever get old or die now, Juliana," he said. "You'll always be beautiful." He arranged her so that she looked as though she had stopped here to rest and had somehow fallen asleep. "You're with us now. You'll always be with us." He stroked her face. "Always."
As Billy T drove away, he saw that the starving mongrel from the alley had returned and was licking the blood from the plate-glass window. Several of the larger dogs had joined the first dog. They were staring hungrily at the blond dancer, waiting for her to move.
When she didn't, one of the dogs darted forward, tore a chunk of flesh from her.
The rest soon joined in.
Billy T smiled. He sure hated to see a dog starve.
Chapter 5
L eon Francis Wilson, owner of Leon's Pool Emporium, sat upright in his bed, causing the springs to groan in protest. He blinked the room into focus. What he saw didn't please him. There were two guys standing at the foot of his bed, watching him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He couldn't quite make out their faces in the shadows.
They seemed to be smiling.
One of the figures stepped forward. He was wearing a ratty leather jacket and holding a .38.
"Sonofabitch, I know you," Leon said. "You were in my place earlier tonight."
"I told you he was psychic," Earl Jacobs said to the other man in the shadows. "Let's see if he can guess why we're here."
"How the hell did you get in here?" Leon asked. "There's dead bolts on both doors, bars on the windows. I didn't hear nothing."
"I'd ask for my money back on those locks if I were you." Steven Adler peeled away from the wall and settled on the foot of the bed. "Sorry to come calling so late, Leon, but we need to talk to you about something."
"Look, I didn't mean nothing back there at the pool hall. I thought you was gonna start trouble. I can't afford to have no trouble. The cops told me one more time and I—"
"We understand, Leon, really we do." Steven patted him on the cheek, softly. "And we don't bear any hard feelings, do we, Earl?"
"Not a one. Not even after he threatened me with a gun." Earl smiled. "Not even after he called you a sick son of a bitch who gets his kicks out of scaring young girls. By the way, where is that tasty little daughter of yours?"
"She's staying with a friend. You leave her out of this," Leon said. "This is between us."
"You're absolutely right. We all make mistakes in judgment from time to time," Steven allowed in a quiet, friendly voice. "It's only… human. We've come to help you rectify a mistake you made last night."
"The money's over there on the dresser."
"No, no, Leon. You're not getting the picture here. We're not interested in your money. I want to know where my cue stick went." Steven leaned close and Leon got a glimpse of what Dorinda had seen in his eyes. "That stick means a great deal to me and I'd like to have it back."
"I don't have it," Leon said.
"Who does?"
"I don't know."
Steven rose from the bed, smoothed out the sheets where he had sat. "God, I'm so glad you're going to make this difficult." He traced the scar on the black man's face with his finger until Leon pulled away. "This is a very nice place you've got here. Earl and I were looking around a little earlier and we noticed you have a pool table in the basement. I'll bet it's the same one you taught Dorinda to play
He sat Juliana down in front of the laundromat and knelt in front of her. A breeze ruffled her blond hair. The face of the dancer was calm in death, but whatever controlled Billy T saw a trace of sadness in the beautiful, composed features. "You won't ever get old or die now, Juliana," he said. "You'll always be beautiful." He arranged her so that she looked as though she had stopped here to rest and had somehow fallen asleep. "You're with us now. You'll always be with us." He stroked her face. "Always."
As Billy T drove away, he saw that the starving mongrel from the alley had returned and was licking the blood from the plate-glass window. Several of the larger dogs had joined the first dog. They were staring hungrily at the blond dancer, waiting for her to move.
When she didn't, one of the dogs darted forward, tore a chunk of flesh from her.
The rest soon joined in.
Billy T smiled. He sure hated to see a dog starve.
Chapter 5
L eon Francis Wilson, owner of Leon's Pool Emporium, sat upright in his bed, causing the springs to groan in protest. He blinked the room into focus. What he saw didn't please him. There were two guys standing at the foot of his bed, watching him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He couldn't quite make out their faces in the shadows.
They seemed to be smiling.
One of the figures stepped forward. He was wearing a ratty leather jacket and holding a .38.
"Sonofabitch, I know you," Leon said. "You were in my place earlier tonight."
"I told you he was psychic," Earl Jacobs said to the other man in the shadows. "Let's see if he can guess why we're here."
"How the hell did you get in here?" Leon asked. "There's dead bolts on both doors, bars on the windows. I didn't hear nothing."
"I'd ask for my money back on those locks if I were you." Steven Adler peeled away from the wall and settled on the foot of the bed. "Sorry to come calling so late, Leon, but we need to talk to you about something."
"Look, I didn't mean nothing back there at the pool hall. I thought you was gonna start trouble. I can't afford to have no trouble. The cops told me one more time and I—"
"We understand, Leon, really we do." Steven patted him on the cheek, softly. "And we don't bear any hard feelings, do we, Earl?"
"Not a one. Not even after he threatened me with a gun." Earl smiled. "Not even after he called you a sick son of a bitch who gets his kicks out of scaring young girls. By the way, where is that tasty little daughter of yours?"
"She's staying with a friend. You leave her out of this," Leon said. "This is between us."
"You're absolutely right. We all make mistakes in judgment from time to time," Steven allowed in a quiet, friendly voice. "It's only… human. We've come to help you rectify a mistake you made last night."
"The money's over there on the dresser."
"No, no, Leon. You're not getting the picture here. We're not interested in your money. I want to know where my cue stick went." Steven leaned close and Leon got a glimpse of what Dorinda had seen in his eyes. "That stick means a great deal to me and I'd like to have it back."
"I don't have it," Leon said.
"Who does?"
"I don't know."
Steven rose from the bed, smoothed out the sheets where he had sat. "God, I'm so glad you're going to make this difficult." He traced the scar on the black man's face with his finger until Leon pulled away. "This is a very nice place you've got here. Earl and I were looking around a little earlier and we noticed you have a pool table in the basement. I'll bet it's the same one you taught Dorinda to play
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