National Transportation Safety Bureau. Beyond that, he said, nothing could be done – not until morning. It was late – or, rather, early – by the time we left Shadow Bar. The place was closed to the public at two a.m., but management kept it open for Alabama and a couple of her close friends from Bally’s. I also stayed back in case I was needed – I wasn’t.
Nevertheless, it was almost three a.m. by the time I hailed a cab for Alabama and her friends, who she’d asked to stay over at her place to keep her company. I flagged down another cab for myself, and a yellow and green Prius pulled to the sidewalk. As I opened the door, a woman slid in ahead of me to claim the back seat. I stood there holding the door, working up to being indignant.
‘You goin’ my way, honey?’ called a voice from inside.
There weren’t many ways to go in Vegas, so there was a good chance I just might be. I bent down to say sure and noticed the black dress with the polished stones around the hemline. Sugar.
‘It’s Vin, right?’ she asked when I hesitated.
‘Yeah,’ I said and got in.
She held out her hand. ‘Sugar.’
‘I know,’ I told her. ‘We’ve met already, at Bally’s, in the change room. You might not remember.’ Her fingers were long and slender, the fingernails real and painted a soft pink, her skin warm, moisturized and fragrant.
‘Sure I remember. But we never exchanged names, so it ain’t official. An’ y’all have seen me naked, so y’all have me at a disadvantage.’
I had, and I’d like to again.
The driver was getting edgy sitting in traffic, banking it up. ‘We headin’ somewheres, folks?’ he asked, half turning in his seat.
‘Where you goin’?’ Sugar asked me.
‘Bally’s.’
‘What do you know, me too. Bally’s, please,’ she said to the driver, then to me: ‘You’re stayin’ there, ain’t you? I heard you say something about it to ’Bama.’
‘Yes.’
‘You a frien’ of hers?’
‘I’m helping her out with a problem.’
‘You’re from back East. I can tell by yo’ accent. That’s a long way to come. Must be a big problem she got.’ Sugar shifted in her seat, uncrossed her leg one way and recrossed it the other, her body curling like smoke, her perfume fresh and imported. She smiled at me, eyes set to bedroom mode. ‘I think I’m gonna like you. ’Bama has good taste.’ Something amused her. ‘I sure liked the taste of Randy.’ She licked her lips. There was no mistaking her meaning.
My collar felt tight. The driver was somehow managing to avoid colliding with other vehicles, despite the fact that his eyes were superglued to the rear-view mirror.
‘I spoke with one of the girls about half an hour ago,’ Sugar continued. ‘She said somethin’ had happened and that ’Bama was upset. Somethin’ about Randy.’
‘You’ll have to ask Alabama,’ I said.
Sugar smiled at me, her lips parting, one eyebrow arched. One leg rubbed against the other. If I’d been required to say anything more at that moment, I probably would have stuttered.
‘Yes, good idea. I’ll do that,’ she continued. ‘So, the important question is, how long will y’all be stayin’ in Vegas?’
A thud followed by a lift under the cab’s front wheels told me we’d hit the ramp leading up to Bally’s forecourt.
‘Until I leave,’ I said, more cryptically than I’d intended.
‘Well, obviously.’ Sugar did that uncrossing thing again with her legs, preparing to get out, the cab coming to a stop. ‘Sounds like longer than a day or two, at least.’
‘Who knows,’ I said. The meter said eight bucks. I gave the driver twelve and asked for a receipt.
‘Maybe we could have a drink. You got a card?’ she asked me.
I handed one over and she held it up to the light. ‘So, Mr Special Agent, y’all have come all the way from Andrews Air Force Base, Washington DC. What’s so special about you?’
‘I’ll tell you some other time, perhaps. You probably want to
Nevertheless, it was almost three a.m. by the time I hailed a cab for Alabama and her friends, who she’d asked to stay over at her place to keep her company. I flagged down another cab for myself, and a yellow and green Prius pulled to the sidewalk. As I opened the door, a woman slid in ahead of me to claim the back seat. I stood there holding the door, working up to being indignant.
‘You goin’ my way, honey?’ called a voice from inside.
There weren’t many ways to go in Vegas, so there was a good chance I just might be. I bent down to say sure and noticed the black dress with the polished stones around the hemline. Sugar.
‘It’s Vin, right?’ she asked when I hesitated.
‘Yeah,’ I said and got in.
She held out her hand. ‘Sugar.’
‘I know,’ I told her. ‘We’ve met already, at Bally’s, in the change room. You might not remember.’ Her fingers were long and slender, the fingernails real and painted a soft pink, her skin warm, moisturized and fragrant.
‘Sure I remember. But we never exchanged names, so it ain’t official. An’ y’all have seen me naked, so y’all have me at a disadvantage.’
I had, and I’d like to again.
The driver was getting edgy sitting in traffic, banking it up. ‘We headin’ somewheres, folks?’ he asked, half turning in his seat.
‘Where you goin’?’ Sugar asked me.
‘Bally’s.’
‘What do you know, me too. Bally’s, please,’ she said to the driver, then to me: ‘You’re stayin’ there, ain’t you? I heard you say something about it to ’Bama.’
‘Yes.’
‘You a frien’ of hers?’
‘I’m helping her out with a problem.’
‘You’re from back East. I can tell by yo’ accent. That’s a long way to come. Must be a big problem she got.’ Sugar shifted in her seat, uncrossed her leg one way and recrossed it the other, her body curling like smoke, her perfume fresh and imported. She smiled at me, eyes set to bedroom mode. ‘I think I’m gonna like you. ’Bama has good taste.’ Something amused her. ‘I sure liked the taste of Randy.’ She licked her lips. There was no mistaking her meaning.
My collar felt tight. The driver was somehow managing to avoid colliding with other vehicles, despite the fact that his eyes were superglued to the rear-view mirror.
‘I spoke with one of the girls about half an hour ago,’ Sugar continued. ‘She said somethin’ had happened and that ’Bama was upset. Somethin’ about Randy.’
‘You’ll have to ask Alabama,’ I said.
Sugar smiled at me, her lips parting, one eyebrow arched. One leg rubbed against the other. If I’d been required to say anything more at that moment, I probably would have stuttered.
‘Yes, good idea. I’ll do that,’ she continued. ‘So, the important question is, how long will y’all be stayin’ in Vegas?’
A thud followed by a lift under the cab’s front wheels told me we’d hit the ramp leading up to Bally’s forecourt.
‘Until I leave,’ I said, more cryptically than I’d intended.
‘Well, obviously.’ Sugar did that uncrossing thing again with her legs, preparing to get out, the cab coming to a stop. ‘Sounds like longer than a day or two, at least.’
‘Who knows,’ I said. The meter said eight bucks. I gave the driver twelve and asked for a receipt.
‘Maybe we could have a drink. You got a card?’ she asked me.
I handed one over and she held it up to the light. ‘So, Mr Special Agent, y’all have come all the way from Andrews Air Force Base, Washington DC. What’s so special about you?’
‘I’ll tell you some other time, perhaps. You probably want to
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