Free Deadly Detail by Don Porter Page A

typical Fairbanks roughneck in jeans and work shirts. One was taller, one was wider, but that’s true of any two guys. I couldn’t pick out anything from their backs in the dark that might or might not resemble the phony cops who had come to Stan and Angie’s place. When they attacked at the house, they’d been wearing hats, so I hadn’t seen the features that could have identified them. I hadn’t had time to form a plan when Jody descended on my table.
    “Hi, handsome, you came back for me.”
    “Yeah, I got a little distracted the other night with all of the excitement.”
    “Gawd, wasn’t that awful? Are you going to buy a thirty-dollar bottle?”
    “Sure thing.” I peeled a twenty and a ten off the roll. She skipped to the bar and was back in a flash with a bottle and two glasses. She started to scoot her chair next to me, but I caught her shoulders and guided her down onto the chair opposite so she was between me and David.
    “What’s the matter? Afraid I might bite? I do use teeth, but never draw blood.”
    “See those three guys at the bar? The suit and the two scruffs?”
    She tossed her mane to glance over her shoulder. “Yeah, what about them?” She popped the cork like the expert she was and poured the champagne. Don’t be impressed by the price. That bottle would cost four bucks at a grocery store, and fifteen of the thirty goes into Jody’s garter.
    “Do you know them?”
    “Hey, I don’t rat on my friends, but no, not really. Those guys are tighter than a fifty-cent condom. They want to feel the merchandise, but for free.”
    “Do they come in often?”
    “Well, the scruffs are pretty regular in the last couple of weeks. Not sure about the suit. Maybe I seen him, maybe not. Nice threads, I should check him out. Aren’t you going to drink your champagne?”
    “Jody, I can’t drink that stuff. It would give me the trots if I didn’t actually upchuck it.”
    “Yeah, me neither. I just wait until the customer is occupied and pour it on the floor. Problem is we’ve got to get rid of it. I plan on another bottle every ten minutes.”
    “Okay, we’ve got eight minutes to go. Try not to breathe the fumes.” Actually, the fumes I was trying to avoid were Jody’s perfume, but they did seem to mix with the noxious emanations from the champagne.
    Dave got up and strode out the door. No empty glass on the counter where he’d sat, so he hadn’t even had a drink. He’d come for a conference, and I did not like that at all.
    “Jody, if I was to buy the next bottle ahead of schedule, do you think you could get one or both of the glasses the scruffs are using?”
    “Probably. I can likely get everything except their wallets. Why, you some kind of cop or something now?”
    “Or something. If you can get them, pick them up by the rim, don’t touch the sides, and be careful not to smudge or wipe them.”
    “How much?”
    “Twenty dollars a glass?”
    “I like nice round figures. How about thirty?”
    “Okay, but Jody, I will be checking fingerprints so you damn well better have the right glasses.”
    “Hey, honor among thieves, right? You and me, baby.” She reached under the table to squeeze my knee. “Time’s up, need another bottle.”
    “Right.” I handed her two more bills. “It would be a good thing if you can keep them here for a while, if you want me to live to buy the glasses.”
    “Indubitably.” She swayed toward the bar, skirt raised for garter stuffing. She straightened the skirt, did a full body check that everything was in place, walked up behind the two scruffs and draped arms around their shoulders. I split.
    ***
    “Angie, grab your stuff, we’re moving.”
    “Where to, and how about dinner?”
    “No, I mean we’re moving now, like this instant. Pretend the building is on fire, and it just might be.” She caught the urgency in my voice and ran for the bathroom.
    “I’ll just put your stuff in with mine. What’s the matter?”
    “Usual drill. I don’t