George Pelecanos - Hell To Pay

“We’re gone,” said Strange, handing the receipt to Quinn.

Vapor lights cast a bleached yellow on the lot outside the club. They walked the asphalt to their cars.

“That was good,” said Strange. “Subtle, like.”

Quinn kept looking back to the door of the club.

“Wanna go back in, huh?”

“Drop it.”

“Terry, one thing you got to learn to do is, don’t take all this bullshit too personal.”

“Guess I ought to be more detached, like you.”

“You need to manage some of that anger you got inside you, man.”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday. We got practice in the evening, right Derek?”

“Six o’clock on the dot,” said Strange.

“I’ll see you then.”

Quinn drove his Chevelle out of the lot while Strange killed some time, fumbling with his car radio and such. When Quinn was out of sight, Strange locked up his car and walked back into Rick’s.

“GIRL,” said Strange, “you gonna bleed me dry.”

“House rules,” said Eve with a shrug. “You want me to sit down with you, you gotta buy me one of these drinks.”

“Tell the truth, though. There’s no liquor in that glass, right?”

“You know it ain’t nothin’ but sugar and juice.”

“Figured it was some kinda hustle,” said Strange.

They were seated at the far end of the bar, away from the sports junkies, near the service station. Eve’s bouncer was nearby, talking to one of the dancers, keeping one eye on the house, one on Eve.

“That your man?” said Strange.

“Yeah. You got to have one, and he’s as good as any I’ve had. Never has raised a hand to me once.”

Eve slid a cigarette from a pack the bartender had placed before her as she took her seat. Strange struck a match and gave her a light.

“Thank you, sugar.”

“Ain’t no thing.”

“Say your name again?”

“Derek Strange.”

She dragged on the smoke, then hit it again. Strange took a ten from his wallet and placed it on the bar between him and Eve. Eve’s head was moving to the Tower of Power coming from the house system as she slipped the ten into her shorts.

“‘Clever Girl,’” said Strange.

“I ain’t all that. Would I be here if I was?”

“I’m sayin’, that’s the name of this song. Lenny Williams up front. Ain’t no question, he was the best vocalist this group had, and they had a few.”

“Little before my time.”

“I know, darling.” Strange leaned in close to Eve. “Let me just go ahead and ask you straight up, you don’t mind. Do you know the girl in the flyer?”

Eve shook her head. “No.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“I told your boy.”

“But you do know this cat Worldwide.”

“He was my pimp at one time.”

“Was?”

“I stopped trickin’ last year. I can make a better living doing this right here. Plus, I got this thing at Lord and Taylor’s, up in Chevy Chase? Givin’ out perfume samples, like that.”

“Always wondered where they found those pretty girls in places like that.”

“Thank you,” said Eve, lowering her eyes for a moment and then fixing them again on Strange.

“Sounds like you’re doin’ all right.”

“I’m makin’ it.”

“You just walked away from trickin’, huh?”

“Worldwide specializes in those young girls. It wasn’t like I went off to another pimp. That’s something he wouldn’t let happen, understand what I’m sayin’? What it was, he couldn’t use me no more. I got old, Strange. So I clean-breaked and came on over here.”

“You’re like, what, thirty? That ain’t old.”

Eve tapped ash off her smoke. “I’m twenty-nine. That’s old for World.”

“What about the one who gave Quinn your name? You know her?”

“Oh, yeah. Had to be this little white bitch, name of Stella.”

“She told him you steered girls over to Wilson.”

“I ain’t never done that. It’s what she does. Can’t sell her own ass; ain’t nobody even wants that pussy for free. Trick-ass bitch hustled your boy out of his money, bringin’ him my way. I knew straight off, he mentioned P Street, it was her. ’Cause that’s her corner, right? She gets next to those young white-girl runaways and puts them up with World. She was doin’ that shit when I was with him, and she still is, I guess. Thought she could make some quick change, givin’ up my name. That’s her, all the way.”

“Where’s Worldwide base his self?”

“Uh-uh.” Eve took a final drag off her cigarette and crushed it dead in the ashtray. “Look, I talked too much already. And I got to get myself back to work.”

“I need you, I can get up with you here, right?”

“Door’s open, long as you just wanna watch me dance. Far as this goes, though, we are done. You do come back, don’t be bringin’ your Caucasian friend with you, hear?”

“Boy’s got some anger management problems is what it is.”

“Needs to learn some manners, too.” Eve stood and straightened her outfit. “Listen, you do run into World-”

“I don’t know you no way. I never met you, and I don’t even know your name.”

Eve’s eyes softened. She looked younger then, and when she moved in and rested her hand on Strange’s shoulder, it felt good.

“Somethin’ else, too,” she said. “Don’t you even have a dream of fuckin’ with that man. This is not somethin’ you want to do.”

“I hear you, baby.”

Eve kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You smell kinda sweet for a man, y’know it?”

Strange said, “Take care of yourself, all right?”

She moved away and went through one of the doors behind the bar. Strange settled his tab and got his receipt. On his way out he stopped by the bouncer with the braided hair. He stood before him, looked him up and down, and smiled.

“Damn, boy,” said Strange, “you got some size on you, don’t you?”

“I go about two forty,” said the bouncer.

“Looks like most of it’s muscle, too. Can you move?”

“I’m quick for my size.”

“You a D.C. boy, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Played for who?”

“Came out of Ballou in ninety-two.”

“The Knights. No college?”

The bouncer spread his hands. “I ain’t had the grades.”

“Well, all that natural talent you got, you ought to be doin’ somethin’ ’stead of standing in this bar, breathing in all this smoke.”

“I heard that. But this here is what I got.”

“Listen,” said Strange, “thank you for handling that situation the way you did.”

“I don’t reach out for trouble. But I only give out one get-out-of-jail card per customer, see what I’m sayin’? You need to tell your boy, he comes back in here again, I will kick his motherfucking ass.”

Strange put a business card into the bouncer’s left hand, shook his right. “You ever need anything, the name’s Strange.”

Strange walked out, thinking on one of those golden rules his mother used to repeat, that one about the honey always gettin’ the flies. His mother, she was full of those corny old sayings. Him and his brother, when he was alive, used to joke about it with her all the time. She’d been gone awhile now, and more than anything, he missed hearing her voice. The longer he lived the more he realized, damn near everything she’d taught him, seemed like it was right.

QUINN showered at his apartment on Sligo Avenue, then walked up to town, passing the bookstore on Bonifant, stopping to check the lock on the front door before he went on his way. He drank two bottles of Bud at the Quarry House, seated next to a dwarfish regular who read paperback novels, spoke rarely, but was friendly when addressed. Quinn had gotten a taste at Rick’s and knew his evening would not be done without a couple more. These days, he almost always walked into bars by himself. He hadn’t had a girlfriend since things between him and Juana, a law student and waitress up at Rosita’s on Georgia Avenue, had fallen apart over a year ago. But he still frequented the local watering holes. He liked the atmosphere of bars, and he didn’t like to drink alone.