BooksBarbecue
Back Borrowed Time Save as PDF
Chapters (54)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgments
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. Chapter 32
  38. Chapter 33
  39. Chapter 34
  40. Chapter 35
  41. Chapter 36
  42. Chapter 37
  43. Chapter 38
  44. Chapter 39
  45. Chapter 40
  46. Chapter 41
  47. Chapter 42
  48. Chapter 43
  49. Chapter 44
  50. Chapter 45
  51. Chapter 46
  52. Chapter 47
  53. Chapter 48
  54. Chapter 49

I giggled. Also a lie. I never giggled. Giggling was something twelve-year-old girls did at slumber parties. Thirty-four-year-old women with brains in their heads did not giggle. Ever. “You really think so?”

He nodded. “I know so. Who do I make this out to, sugar cheeks?” He licked the point of the pen, then poised it over the paper, not bothering to look at it, the lascivious grin widening on his child-support-dodging face.

“Ruth, Antoine, and Dawn,” I snapped. The smile was gone, the giggle, too.

Big Percy blinked; the pen shook a little. I’d given him the names of his ex-wife and children, and it took him no time to realize it. He turned to his bodyguard, looking for a little of that buffer action he was likely paying good money for. Too late. The man’s hands were occupied holding Big Percy’s guitar case. Looks like a certain somebody in muskrat failed “Bodyguard 101.”

“You’ve been served, Mr. Prescott. Oh, and your landlady told me to tell you she thinks you’re a scumbag. She had a few other choice words, but I’m too much of a lady to repeat them. Have a nice night.”

I strolled back to my car, leaving Big Percy and his porter standing on the sidewalk, their mouths agape, sucking in air like grounded river pike. I punched the button on my radio and caught the tail end of “Papa Was a Rolling Stone.” It could have been Big Percy’s theme song. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d planned it.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Deek’s Diner was nearly deserted when I cruised in at eight for breakfast. I’d managed to get a good solid six hours’ sleep, riding on my Big Percy win, and I was feeling refreshed, triumphant, and hungry. It was not an unusual thing to find Deek’s at far less than capacity. That’s why I liked the place. You could always find a seat. People flocked to other diners, but they didn’t flock here and wouldn’t, even if Deek were giving away free bacon. That’s because Willis Deacon, Vietnam vet turned surly fry cook and unrepentant social pariah, would go down in the annals of history as the grumpiest black man this side of Hades.