I watched as he ran his hand over his closely shorn, white-blond hair and took a swig from a mug of beer. He picked up a pool cue—I guessed he was playing alone as there were balls all over the table. Suddenly he pointed the cue stick at me. “Bang,” he mouthed.
I quickly averted my eyes, ignoring him. Crap! Had he known I’d been watching him the whole time?
Jimmy returned and placed the bottle on the bar. He’d left the cap on, so I twisted it off with a huff. But he didn’t even seem to notice. It seemed my bartender-pal was distracted, as he kept glancing over at Mr. Cue Stick in the back room.
I cleared my throat. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” I asked, curious as to what was going on here.
“Nah.” Jimmy shot another furtive look to the back and then lowered his voice. “Hey, listen. I haven’t found that picture yet. And I figure that’s why you’re here. But today’s probably not a good day for you to be here—”
Before Jimmy finished, a rude voice interrupted, “Who’s the fresh meat?”
It was the guy from the back. He slammed his empty mug down on the bar, and though I kept my eyes on the bar, I felt his bore into me.
I heard Jimmy say, “Let her alone, man. She’s not lookin’ for what ’ya think she is.”
What the hell was Jimmy referring to? Drugs? No doubt.
The man laughed. “Hell, Jimmy, everyone can use a little pick-me-up from time to time.” He paused, and I reluctantly glanced over. He tapped his nose. “Isn’t that right, sweet thing?” He cocked his head to one side, examining me like a specimen. “Or maybe you’re just looking for a little tweak?”
His eyes were so dark, almost black. I couldn’t hold his stare, so I dropped my gaze. The tattoos on his right arm—screaming skulls with dark snakes writhing out of their eyes—seemed to be looking right at me. If the artwork hadn’t been so disturbing, I would have thought it beautiful in its intricacy. But as it was, I shuddered. There was something very wrong with this guy. I sensed he was still staring, so I glanced up. A shiver ran down my spine as those black eyes met mine.
I looked away, and he laughed. “I got all kinds of goodies to loosen up a tight little piece like you. You let me know if you change your pretty little mind.”
Still keeping my eyes averted, I found myself nodding out of sheer terror. The man laughed louder. “Don’t worry about the price either. I got all kinds of payment options for customers who look as good as you do.” I cringed at the thought, and he added, “Aw, don’t look so scared. You come spend a few minutes with me in the back, and I’ll get you so high you’ll think you’re in heaven.”
More like hell, I thought.
“Zeb,” Jimmy interjected, though his rattled voice betrayed his fear. “Leave her alone.”
I looked up to see Zeb turning to Jimmy, fury emanated from him. “You don’t tell me what to do, you got that, man?” Jimmy nodded meekly as he refilled Zeb’s mug, his hand trembling. “You just worry about getting me what you owe me, or we’re gonna have some real problems on our hands.”
Thankfully Zeb was more focused on Jimmy now. He stared intently at him as Jimmy slid Zeb’s now-full mug toward him. As Zeb picked up his beer, his eyes never left Jimmy. Not even as he headed back to the back room. Finally he looked away.
A few minutes later, when Zeb disappeared into the men’s room, Jimmy leaned toward me and whispered, “Listen, Maddy. You better get outta here.”
I had every intention of hitting the road before Zeb had another chance to harass me, but first I wanted to take care of something. It was clear Zeb was a dealer, and Jimmy owed him money. I couldn’t help but feel bad for the kid. He probably needed as much help as J.T. A part of me wanted to talk to him about getting his life together, but I knew Zeb would be back soon. Right now, the only thing I could offer was some help to get him out of financial trouble with the scary dealer.
I stood up, readying to go. “How much do you owe him?” I asked Jimmy in a hushed voice.
He cast his eyes down. “Five hundred, but he’d leave me alone if I could get him sumthin’.”
I didn’t have five hundred dollars on me, but I pulled out the extra money I had brought. Sliding two one-hundred dollar bills across the bar, I said, “Here, take it. But God, Jimmy, try not to buy from him again.”
“Hey, I’m not some charity case, ’ya know,” Jimmy protested.
“Then think of it as an advance,” I offered. “For the picture.”
He hesitated but ultimately snatched the money up. He sounded deflated when he said, “I’ll get ’ya whatcha need, I promise.”
“Can I ask you one thing before I leave?”
Jimmy nodded, and I whispered, “Was that Zeb-guy Chelsea’s dealer?”
He looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then he glanced at the money in his hand. “Yeah,” Jimmy said quietly. “Anyone here who needs sumthin’ they go to Zeb. Always have, probably always will.”
Considering Chelsea’s drug habits, I wondered if she’d ever taken Zeb up on any of his special “payment options.” I was going to ask, but Jimmy glanced uneasily to the back. “You better go.”
So I nodded and rushed out of Billy’s. When I slipped back into my car and adjusted the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of a man ducking behind one of the warehouses. Unfortunately he was too quick for me to get a clear view. But there was no more doubt in my mind that I was being tailed. But who would be following me? And why? I debated
