lookin’ around for a better deal. Tol’ ’em I ain’t got none.” Bad Red was admitting he was a spade with limits.
Katey finished lighting another Winston. “If we hear of anything, maybe we can help them out, and like maybe they help us out. Who do we look for?”
“Julius Shelton and Lonnie Conquest. Two country boys from North Carolina makin’ money in the big city. You check wif me, I put you in touch with them.”
Neil finished winding his wristwatch, and Katey nodded, letting the matter drop. Dope was a game you never rushed. People were late, sometimes they never showed at all. Sometimes you waited four hours for a contact who stood you up, never bothering to tell you why. In dope, everybody was undependable and far from trustworthy. Dope was a game for patience, cunning, cool nerves. Katey wasn’t going to press Bad Red about Julius Shelton and Lonnie Conquest, and neither was Neil, not on a first meeting.
But they had come up with names in the night, and that was a start.
A beautiful young white woman bent down and put both arms around Bad Red, blowing into his ear, then touching the ear with the tip of a long pink tongue. The woman was a platinum blond, wore a skintight yellow dress and gold bracelets on both biceps. Katey held his breath. Gorgeous. In her early twenties.
Bad Red giggled, gently pushing the woman away. “Charisse, you is bad. Why you got to come on when I’m tryin’ to do business?”
The woman stood up, and she and Katey stared at each other. Katey moved his small mouth to one side in a grin, nodding, interested. That was one of the joys of being on the force. Freebies.
Bad Red’s eyes flicked from the woman to the cop. “Charisse here’s goin’ to Europe soon. She got her a little trick. Charisse, show my friends here what you do with a rubber band.”
She smiled, eyes still on Katey, who chewed a corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes from her. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Tall, close to five-ten Katey would say, nice tits, hair like white gold, and one hell of a delicious mouth.
Charisse held the rubber band up in two long fingers tipped with green nail polish. Neil, Lydia, and Katey watched. Bad Red watched them. He knew all about Charisse.
“I usually charge twenty dollars to do this trick.” Her voice was husky, as though she had a cold. It turned Katey on.
He gave her his small smile again, but his words were aimed at Bad Red. “She worth twenty?”
“I hear tell.”
“Neil, you got twenty?” Let the feds pay.
Charisse took the twenty from Neil, folded it, slipped it into a tiny flat silver purse. She dangled the rubber band on her thumb so they could all see it; then she slipped it into her mouth, moved her jaw, stood with both hands on her hips, and Katey wanted to fuck her so bad he could have climbed across the table and jumped her right there.
Charisse took the rubber band from her mouth. It was wet, glistening with spit, and tied in a perfect bow.
Katey snorted. “Talented, too.”
Charisse licked her pink lips with her tongue, did it slowly, and never stopped looking at Katey.
“No complaints so far.” That husky voice again. It was like ice scraping Katey’s spine.
Lydia reached across the table, taking Bad Red by the wrist. She was annoyed. “That’s enough!”
Charisse frowned, blinked. A hand went to her throat, and she flinched as though expecting to be hit.
Lydia hissed, “ Red ? These people are my friends. Customers. Remember?”
Bad Red grinned. “Yeah. Sure. I can dig it.” He looked at Charisse. “Later, baby. Later. Go on, go on. Split.”
Charisse and Lydia glared at each other. Then the beautiful blond was gone, into the crowd. In the silence at the table, Katey knew something was wrong. Cops always know.
Lydia said, “It’s a man. He’s going to Europe to have a sex change, and Red should have—”
“Hey, momma, whatchu wan’ me do? I ain’t gon’ put people’s business in the
Katey finished lighting another Winston. “If we hear of anything, maybe we can help them out, and like maybe they help us out. Who do we look for?”
“Julius Shelton and Lonnie Conquest. Two country boys from North Carolina makin’ money in the big city. You check wif me, I put you in touch with them.”
Neil finished winding his wristwatch, and Katey nodded, letting the matter drop. Dope was a game you never rushed. People were late, sometimes they never showed at all. Sometimes you waited four hours for a contact who stood you up, never bothering to tell you why. In dope, everybody was undependable and far from trustworthy. Dope was a game for patience, cunning, cool nerves. Katey wasn’t going to press Bad Red about Julius Shelton and Lonnie Conquest, and neither was Neil, not on a first meeting.
But they had come up with names in the night, and that was a start.
A beautiful young white woman bent down and put both arms around Bad Red, blowing into his ear, then touching the ear with the tip of a long pink tongue. The woman was a platinum blond, wore a skintight yellow dress and gold bracelets on both biceps. Katey held his breath. Gorgeous. In her early twenties.
Bad Red giggled, gently pushing the woman away. “Charisse, you is bad. Why you got to come on when I’m tryin’ to do business?”
The woman stood up, and she and Katey stared at each other. Katey moved his small mouth to one side in a grin, nodding, interested. That was one of the joys of being on the force. Freebies.
Bad Red’s eyes flicked from the woman to the cop. “Charisse here’s goin’ to Europe soon. She got her a little trick. Charisse, show my friends here what you do with a rubber band.”
She smiled, eyes still on Katey, who chewed a corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes from her. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Tall, close to five-ten Katey would say, nice tits, hair like white gold, and one hell of a delicious mouth.
Charisse held the rubber band up in two long fingers tipped with green nail polish. Neil, Lydia, and Katey watched. Bad Red watched them. He knew all about Charisse.
“I usually charge twenty dollars to do this trick.” Her voice was husky, as though she had a cold. It turned Katey on.
He gave her his small smile again, but his words were aimed at Bad Red. “She worth twenty?”
“I hear tell.”
“Neil, you got twenty?” Let the feds pay.
Charisse took the twenty from Neil, folded it, slipped it into a tiny flat silver purse. She dangled the rubber band on her thumb so they could all see it; then she slipped it into her mouth, moved her jaw, stood with both hands on her hips, and Katey wanted to fuck her so bad he could have climbed across the table and jumped her right there.
Charisse took the rubber band from her mouth. It was wet, glistening with spit, and tied in a perfect bow.
Katey snorted. “Talented, too.”
Charisse licked her pink lips with her tongue, did it slowly, and never stopped looking at Katey.
“No complaints so far.” That husky voice again. It was like ice scraping Katey’s spine.
Lydia reached across the table, taking Bad Red by the wrist. She was annoyed. “That’s enough!”
Charisse frowned, blinked. A hand went to her throat, and she flinched as though expecting to be hit.
Lydia hissed, “ Red ? These people are my friends. Customers. Remember?”
Bad Red grinned. “Yeah. Sure. I can dig it.” He looked at Charisse. “Later, baby. Later. Go on, go on. Split.”
Charisse and Lydia glared at each other. Then the beautiful blond was gone, into the crowd. In the silence at the table, Katey knew something was wrong. Cops always know.
Lydia said, “It’s a man. He’s going to Europe to have a sex change, and Red should have—”
“Hey, momma, whatchu wan’ me do? I ain’t gon’ put people’s business in the
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