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Authors: KevaD

Whistle Pass (9 page)

BOOK: Whistle Pass
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The car slowed. Lights glowed in the distance on the left.

“What is it?”

“Perkins pulled into Chandler’s Steak House. There’s a road just beyond it if you want me to make the turn.”

“Yeah. Do that.” Charlie craned his neck as they drove past the lot. Perkins pulled up to the doors of the building, stopped, then drove to an empty space in the center of the lot. Gabe made the turn onto the other road. “Pull over.” Charlie opened the door and got out. So did Gabe.

“You don’t have to come.”

Gabe turned up the collar of his jacket. “Yes, I do.” A shoulder rose and lowered.

Charlie nodded. “I understand. You need an idea of what those men felt before they died.”

Gabe’s head lowered.

Charlie rounded the car and pulled Gabe to him. “It’s okay. It is. When fear chokes off your ability to speak, that’s when you’ll know. It’s what they did about it that separated them from the others around them. Some ran toward the enemy. Some ran away. Some died never knowing who they really were. Others just stood, too scared to do anything.”

Gabe’s mouth was at his ear. “Your scars are in the front.”

“In all the commotion, I got confused and ran the wrong way.” His groin woke to the feel of the man in his arms. He pushed away before he surrendered to the blood flowing to the wrong place. “Stay low and behind me.” Crouched, he tied his boot, then hurried through the trees, Gabe at his heels.

At the edge of the lot, Charlie duck-walked from car to car until he found a gap through which he could see Perkins’s Cadillac. The window down, Perkins’s fingers drummed the side of the door. Light footsteps clopped toward them. Charlie dropped flat to the ground. Gabe’s weight at his ankles alerted him Gabe had followed suit.

The door swung open, and Perkins pulled himself out of the car. The man stood taller and wider than Charlie recalled, but they hadn’t really taken the time to introduce themselves on the hotel stairway. Six two, an easy 250 pounds. The snap-brim hat was the same.

A shapely woman in a beige dress and heels strode around the back of the car. Dark blonde hair bounced on her shoulders. She hadn’t worn a coat to the meeting. Obviously, she had no intention of staying long. Perkins’s arms went wide. The woman threw her arms around the police chief’s neck. Perkins enveloped her in his large arms and rubbed a paw over her ass. The woman’s head bypassed Perkins’s open mouth.

Charlie muted his chuckle.
No good news, no kissee.

Her hands went to his shoulders. She backed up a step. Perkins’s arms went wide again, and his lips moved as fast as if he’d just been caught cheating. The woman wagged a finger, spun on a heel, and stomped back the way she’d come.

Charlie flexed a cheek. She was attractive. Might even be pretty once she got the scowl off her face.

Perkins got in the car and backed out of the space. Acrid smoke flooded the lot, tires burned off rubber, and the squeal of the spinning wheels splintered the stillness. The car fishtailed onto the roadway and raced into the night.

Charlie laughed and turned to Gabe. “Old Perkins didn’t get what he expected to get. I’d say an empty hand is all he’s going to bed with tonight.” Charlie froze.

Gabe’s face was white as a dove.

“What’s wrong?”

Lips moved, but no sound came out. Gabe gulped a lump Charlie could see roll down his throat.

“Charlie.” Gabe closed his eyes. When he opened them, they glistened under a glaze of fear. “That was Dora Black. The mayor’s wife.”

“Isn’t that interesting.” Charlie stood. He turned and took a few steps toward the steak house.

Gabe grabbed Charlie’s coat sleeve and jerked him to a stop. “What are you doing? You can’t go in there.”

“Why not?” One way or another, he had to meet Dora Black. She not only had the man he’d once wanted, she also apparently gave the police chief marching orders in exchange for a little backseat bingo.
Busy girl
.

“You have to have money to go in there. I mean, it’s where the rich people hang out.”

“I’ll just have a beer. I’m sure I have enough for a lousy beer.” He turned, but Gabe pulled him around.

“Charlie. You don’t get it. Not just anybody can go in there. It’s members only.”

Charlie mulled that over. “Whistle Pass has so many rich people this place can survive? It’s not exactly on the main road, you know. Up here in the hills, surrounded by trees.” He looked around. “Not even a sign.” Something definitely wasn’t right here. “What kind of place is this?”

“A dinner club. Fancy food, lots of expensive booze. Only the finest clientele. Crème de la crème. A lot of business types come out from Chicago for
private
weekend meetings.”

Charlie scratched the growth on his cheek. “Private meetings, huh.” Yeah. Private as in screw your secretary six ways to Sunday and then go home to the wife and kids. “So, where’re the rooms?”

Gabe looked away, his hand dropping from Charlie’s coat. His gaze returned to Charlie. “There’s a footpath behind the restaurant that leads to private cabins.” The man took a deep breath and let it out in a deeper sigh. “I used to work weekends here as a maitre d’.” He looked away again.

Reaching out, Charlie gently turned Gabe’s face to his. “You met somebody. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Those soft gray eyes welled. “What it turned into is. Charlie, I—”

Charlie silenced him with a finger to Gabe’s mouth. Dear Lord, the man had soft lips. “Your business. Nobody else’s. Okay?”

Gabe slipped his hand around Charlie’s and clutched it to his chest. “But I want you to know. I want you to know everything about me.”

“Then maybe we should discuss it someplace other than this parking lot where I’m about to go meet the woman married to the man I once thought I’d spend my life with. Not to mention she’s probably the one who dispatched the police chief to try and kick my ass. I’d kind of like to find out if she’s running the show, or if she’s the little woman dutifully obeying her husband.”

Gabe’s eyes shifted from side to side. “Oh.”

“Yeah.
Oh
.” Charlie reclaimed his hand. He slipped off his coat and handed it to Gabe. “Wait here. If this place is like you say, I’ll be right back.”

The fact he wanted to hear every word Gabe wanted to share with him left Charlie more than a bit uncomfortable. Not about Gabe, but about himself. He didn’t want Gabe to open up to him and then both of them discover Charlie was simply on the rebound. Gabe deserved better. Charlie allowed a half grin. The guy stood to lose everything by helping him, yet here he was.

He grabbed the building’s door handle. Better to keep Gabe at arm’s length until Charlie knew for sure just where Gabe stood in his heart. He hesitated.
In my heart? Where the hell did that come from?
He threw open the door.

Chapter 10

 

A
BURST
of heat blew over him. He looked up. A ceiling vent to warm the entering guests. The alcove decked out in fake stone opened to a hall. A scowling man in white shirt and black bowtie stood at a wooden pulpit. Behind the man was another wall. The opening to the man’s right no doubt led to the dining room and bar.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?” The voice, more snarl than welcoming, came as sharp as the man’s glare.

“We both know I don’t. Tell Dora Black that Charlie Harris wants to see her.”

The man’s eyes stayed trained on Charlie while a finger slid over a page in an open book. “We have no guest here by that name.”

A whiff of barbequed ribs and pork floated past. Charlie flared his nostrils. The food smelled damn good. Sounds of low voices and tableware on plates followed the food odors.

“Sure you do. You can tell her, or I’ll tell her. Your choice.” He deliberately rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt.

The greeter nervously tapped a finger on the page. Eyes darted right. “Let me check.” The man walked through the opening.

“You do that.” Charlie chuckled. Greeters in places like this doubled as security dogs on a leash. Without a visible master to turn this one loose, the dog had no bite. Charlie waited two seconds and then followed.

The bar was separated from the dining room by stacked beams forming a half wall. Rows of liquor bottles festooned the wall behind the counter and bartender. The stools and tables were filled with suited men and women in expensive-looking dresses. A few of the women even appeared close to their escorts’ ages.

Charlie sucked in his cheeks. Not a one of these people would ever give somebody like Charlie the time of day, but they’d ask him for directions if they were lost. And, of course, he’d send them the wrong way.

The dining room was large and open. Round tables with seating for two to six. Linen tablecloths. Flowers in glass vases. Antlered deer heads littered dark paneled walls. A few diners looked up, flashed a distorted feature or two of disgust at Charlie, then went back to entertaining their table companions.

At a corner table for six sat the woman he’d seen in the lot. The greeter stopped there. She looked around the white-shirted man to Charlie.

A shiver traveled Charlie’s spine. The woman’s gaze scanned him like an X-ray machine.

Her left hand slid off the hand of the man seated next to her, who, in his late fifties to early sixties, clearly was not Roger Black. She lowered the stemmed glass of champagne she held in the other.

The greeter whirled. “Sir! You cannot be in here.”

“It’s alright, Ted.” She stood, smoothing her dress as she rose from her chair. “I’ll escort the gentleman out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ted wavered, narrowed his eyes and puffed out his chest, then he slinked past Charlie as instructed.

She came around the table and slipped her arm through Charlie’s. A warm smile creased her lips as if greeting an old friend. “I’ll just be a moment,” she said to the three men and two remaining women. “Charlie knows my husband quite well.”

Iceberg blue eyes shifted from cordial hostess to serpentine. Charlie gulped the realization he was a mouse in a snake cage. Gabe thought Police Chief Perkins was nobody to mess with. Perkins didn’t hold a candle to this bitch. Unless the Roger of old had undergone a personality transplant, this broad had to have her puppeteer hand up Roger’s ass.

“Don’t you, Charlie?” She pulled him along beside her and whispered. “What do you think you’re proving here? Are you trying to embarrass Roger? I won’t let you hurt him.”

Dora Black had crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes. She had a nice-enough-looking body under the dress, but the mid-forties Dora had about ten years on Roger.

“You marry Roger, or adopt him?”

Her mouth slithered into a wide smile as they walked. “A sense of humor.” Her other hand brushed the hair on his forearm. Bile rose in his throat. “I like men with a sense of humor. You ever had a woman, Charlie?”

He tried to fight it back but failed—heat scorched his ears.

“No?” She pressed her cheek on his shoulder. “So I’d be your first?”

His free hand found the one on his arm and squeezed. Her head snapped off him. “That hurts.” A crocodile smile crept back to her face. “You like pain, Charlie?”

They stopped at the door to the club.

The smile dropped like an anvil. “I can make sure you get all the pain you want.”

It was Charlie’s turn to smile. “Best send somebody better than the police chief. He didn’t fare too well first time we met.”

Dora released Charlie and took a step back. “Howard?” She snickered. “Chief Perkins is a dedicated civil servant.” Her wink was cold as snake scales. “He seems to enjoy the servant role a little more than most.”

A knot balled in Charlie’s chest as a vision formed of Perkins, leather collar around his throat and attached dog chain held by Dora Black.
What the hell does Roger see in this woman?

A plastic smile adorned her face. “I’m so glad we had a chance to finally meet. Roger’s told me so much about you.” She pushed open the door. “You’ll have to come by the house for dinner sometime before you leave… permanently.” She turned and walked away.

Unsure whether he’d screwed up with the ill-fated frontal assault, Charlie welcomed the chilly air. He inhaled and held his breath until his lungs ached. If nothing else, he’d found out Dora could be one hell of an enemy.

“You okay?”

He blew out the breath like smoke. Good idea. He pulled out the pack of Luckies and lit one. “Yeah. I’m fine. I need a bath, though.”

Gabe chuckled. “She can make you feel that way, for sure. I damn near scrubbed all the skin off me the time she tried to fix me up with her husband.”

Charlie bit down so hard he chomped off the end of the cigarette. “What? What’d you say?”

“Mrs. Black. I thought she was joking around at first. But she kept it up. Talking about what a cute couple we’d make. My shift ended, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The next weekend she introduced me to a business executive from Chicago.” His face flushed and his eyes closed.

Charlie patted Gabe’s shoulder. The hotel manager had more pain inside him than Charlie’d realized. And it made him want to hold Gabe and chase away the demons. “Don’t worry about it. Last perfect man, we nailed to a cross. Let’s get out of here.”

BOOK: Whistle Pass
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