around the lock but it was still on its hinges and the frame was intact. We looked at each other in that way men do when they’re sizing each other up, just before a fight. In the background I could hear his wife selling me out enthusiastically. She used a lot of words to say she’d been high as a kite and I’d taken advantage of her. Not wanting to give him too much time to focus on that viewpoint, I headed for the door. I knew he’d try to sucker punch me as I walked by, so I ducked when I felt it coming. I did a good job of it, but he had the angle on me and the butt of his gun grazed the side of my head and spun me around. I lurched out the door and slid a bit on the gravel in the parking lot before gaining enough traction to start sprinting. I heard him coming after me but he didn’t have the legs. Twenty yards into it he gave up and shouted, “Get the fuck outta here! You ever come back, you’re a dead man! You hear me?”
Yeah, I heard him.
I was half a block away, crossing the highway, backtracking toward my car and I could still hear him. Only what I heard now was the sound of him beating her. I heard her screaming above the traffic noise, begging him to stop. I was closer to the bar than I was to them but I still heard his yelling and her screaming over the muted roar of the band inside. I doubled back to check on her, but the noise had stopped. I crept up to the room, peeked through the broken door.
“What did you see?”
“Two stoners having makeup sex.”
“Women,” Callie said. “Can’t live with ‘em—”
“What about you?” I said, “Your first time with a john.”
“I might be splitting hairs here, but I wasn’t an authentic hooker.”
The drill bit finally burst through the wall. I reversed the direction and retracted the drill, leaving a quarter-inch hole. I cupped my hands around the opening and shouted, “Alison!” Then I put my ear up to it and heard a muted response that sounded like someone saying the letter “M” over and over.
“Yeah,” I said to Callie.
“Yeah, what?”
“You might be splitting hairs when you say you weren’t an authentic hooker.”
“Kiss my ass,” she said.
“I’d be delighted to. And while we’re on the subject…”
“Of my ass?”
“Of johns. You ever have any issues with violence?”
“One time a sweet old gentleman enjoyed my company for about four minutes before smacking me in the back of the head with brass knuckles, knocking me out, and robbing me.”
“See, that’s the problem with civilians. They’re emotional, unpredictable, and they come at you from all the wrong angles. By the way, Alison’s alive. She’s got her mouth taped up.”
“Well that’s good news. How long till we’re in?”
“Let’s put it this way. Have you had dinner yet?”
“I don’t eat much.”
“Good thing.”
I started drilling the second hole.
Chapter 55
When the drill started smoking, I stopped a few minutes to let it cool. Callie took the opportunity to say, “The first time you put your life in danger.”
“What about it?”
“How old were you?”
I thought a minute.
