‘I’ll go get Paul.’
Gooch shook his head. ‘No need to rush to Paul and tell him we’re here.’
‘He doesn’t know?’
‘That’s the way Mr Vasco wants it. Ever since Tommy’s in the hospital, Vasco’s wanting to see what Paul does. Wants to make sure he’s sticking by the agreement. Staying out of Detroit. Staying out of the business. No drug dealing, no money cleaning, no illegal activities.’
Bucks frowned. ‘Whatever we’re doing in Houston is frankly none of Mr Vasco’s concern.’
‘Pull your head out of your Brooks Brothers ass, son. If we tell Mr Vasco that Paul is stepping out of bounds, getting into lines of work that aren’t his to go into, then he’ll send a few ill-tempered gentlemen to straighten you dinks out and you’ll be one unhappy, mostly dead wanna-be,’ Gooch said.
‘That’s assuming you get back to Detroit,’ Bucks said, and Whit saw the momentary fear leave the man’s face, replaced by brittle anger. Gooch had gone too far.
‘Man, cool it,’ Whit said. He glanced at Gooch. ‘You cool it, too. Let’s talk, all right?’ His face ached and the skin under his eye was already beginning to throb. He was going to have a shiner, and a sudden rage boiled at him. This guy knew his mother, saw her, knew her business. He wanted to pound his fist into Bucks’ mouth.
‘Why’d you lie about the money? Why didn’t you say you were from Vasco?’ This thought, moments late, made Bucks’ voice rise and he turned back to face Whit. Gooch’s fist slammed into the back of Bucks’ head, drove him down to the floor.
‘Because you’re nothing but an ass wiper.’ Gooch made his voice more growl than talk. ‘Because we don’t owe you an explanation. You understand me?’
Whit knelt, took Bucks’ gun from him. Now pounding rocked the door, a key fumbled in the lock. Whit placed the gun on the table, his hand near it.
Two thick-necked guys came into the room, staring at Gooch, at Whit with his clearly just-punched face, at Bucks now sitting on the floor.
‘What’s going on, Bucks?’ one asked.
‘Friends of mine,’ Bucks said, ‘playing a joke on me. Everything’s fine.’ He gave a nervous little laugh.
The two muscles looked at Gooch and Whit again.
‘Sorry I had to keep Miss O’Malley out of the room after she brought me up,’ Gooch said. ‘Part of the joke.’
The two muscles looked at Bucks.
‘Nicky, it’s fine. It’s cool. Tell Desire we’ll give her a big tip for her trouble,’ Bucks said, standing.
‘Yeah, I got a big tip for her,’ Gooch said, and now the men laughed.
‘It’s all cool. We’ll be down in a minute,’ Bucks said, and the two men backed out and shut the door behind them.
‘You see how it is?’ Bucks said. ‘I give the order, they’d kill you.’
‘I see they’d try. Detroit’s watching,’ Gooch said. ‘You remember that.’
‘So what happens if Detroit doesn’t like what they see?’ Bucks asked.
‘I wouldn’t be too loyal to Paul,’ Whit said. Bucks looked over at him again, as if for the first time. ‘We want to talk to Eve Michaels.’
Bucks tented his cheek with his tongue, made a clicking sound in his mouth. ‘She’s not around the club often.’
‘Give us a home number then. An address,’ Gooch said.
Bucks didn’t say anything for several seconds, as though chewing over his choices. ‘She’s out of town for a day or so.’
‘Do you have a cell phone number for her?’ Gooch asked.
‘No, sure don’t,’ Bucks said. ‘Call me later.’ He took a pen from his pocket; Whit could see the bulge of a cell phone inside. As Bucks jotted the number on a napkin, Whit took a step to one side.
‘One question,’ Whit said and as Bucks turned toward him Whit popped him with a right jab, below the eye, left of the nose. Then another. Hard. Bucks staggered back, fell on the floor.
‘Now we match,’ Whit said. He grabbed the gun from the table, pointed it at Bucks, and reached into the man’s coat pocket for the cell phone.
‘Hey…’ Bucks said.
‘Shut up or I’ll dig this in your forehead like you did me.’ Whit turned on the phone, found the address book, clicked through the numbers listed inside, EVE CELL was one. He committed the number to memory and dropped the phone on Bucks’ chest.
‘You did have her number,’ Whit said. ‘That’s one lie you’ve told us. You don’t get two, asshole.’
11
Bucks found Tasha in the dancers’ changing room, buds nestled in her ears, swaying to music in front of the mirror. He yanked out an ear bud, heard the thin thump of her song. ‘Where the hell is Paul?’
‘Up in a private room. Alone.’ She glared at him over her shoulder.
‘No time for you anymore?’ he said. In the mirror he was watching her chest, covered by thin white Lycra. She’d taken off all the computer crap; it lay in a jumble on her makeup table, like a system undergoing repair.
She took out the other earphone. ‘He’s watching a basketball game. He’s in a real sour mood.’
‘Word is you’re his new girl.’
‘Word is.’
‘That blond guy you were talking with.’
‘Yeah?’
‘What’d you talk about?’
‘He’s a scout for a movie production company. Looking to film a few scenes here.’ She examined her lipstick in the mirror.
Bucks was silent. ‘He run a tab?’
‘Yeah. Why?’ Now she watched his face in the mirror.
‘No reason. A movie here, that’d be cool.’
She said nothing, watching him with a wry smile.
‘What’s your problem?’ he said.
‘Did you get punched in the eye? It’s starting to swell,’ Tasha said. ‘Paul isn’t going to like that.’
‘Why would he care?’
‘A black eye, that’s a good advertisement for a bad-ass. Really shows you command respect.’
‘I fell on the stairs, hit the railing,’ he said, and as soon as the words were out he regretted them, saw she knew he was lying. Little Miss Smart Mouth, uppity and acting like her brain was as big as her tits. He wanted to reach out, grab those perfect breasts, and twist them in a fierce squeeze until she screamed. But she was Paul’s now. If Kiko Grace or these Detroit dinks had their way, Paul would go for a long swim in Galveston Bay. And Miss Smart Mouth could join Paul, when Bucks was through with her.
‘You should be more careful on that thick carpet,’ she said. ‘Watch your step.’
‘Don’t you need to go shake your tits for the slack-jawed masses?’ he said.
‘I doubt Paul wants you talking to me that way,’ she said, and left as Red Robin, sweaty from a lap dance, came in to towel off.
‘Hey, sugar,’ Bucks said. He had decided being real sweet was a good idea right now.
Robin gave him a quick kiss. ‘Hi. What happened to your eye, baby?’
‘Fell and hit the staircase, like a dumbass.’
Robin kissed the mark by his eye. ‘Angel baby. I’ll go to the kitchen, get you an ice bag.’
‘In a minute. I want you to do me a favor. Keep an eye on Tasha. Tell me what she’s up to.’ Bucks put his arms around her, gave her another short little kiss.
‘Up to? She’s shaking her ass, just like me. Not up to anything.’
‘I want to be sure she’s not screwing over Paul.’
