Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Title
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Incident One
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Incident Two
- Chapter Nine
- Incident Three
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Incident Four
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Incident Five
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Acknowledgments
- Special Thanks
- About the Author
Velvet sank down on the bed, felt the mattress with professional expertise. Not bad. Not bad at all. She held onto the sheets and stared at her reflection in the closet door for a long time. She matched the room, blue green bruises. She hadn’t expected this, didn’t want it, hadn’t expected to understand Robby even a little, or like her.
It made her want to break something.
The phone on the bedstand was round and squatty and lit up with blue neon. When she picked up the receiver, the light went out. A quick fumble in her wallet and she came up with the scribbled number.
Five rings. She got his answering machine.
“Hey, Lenny, listen, this is Velvet. You know, Velvet? Anyway, I got some good shit for you.” She curled up on the neon blue bed, pulled her head down and watched the closed door warily. “I found somebody else who’s seen somebody burn up. It ain’t no coincidence. Got to be the wiseguys.”
She considered for a second, gnawing on a broken nail, and said, “They’re running scared. One of them beat the shit out of me to shut me up. I’ll sell you names and facts for five hundred.”
She hung up and watched the blue neon flare again.
Technically, she supposed, she was guilty of stabbing Robby in the back. Technically.
Five hundred bucks. She could get out of town on that, get someplace new. Robby would understand.
She stretched out on the bed and, after a minute, turned on her side and pulled her knees up to her chest to nurse an ache in her gut.
Incident Four
CAMPBELL, LOUISIANA
Dwayne Elliot paced back and forth in the waiting area, fussing at the sleeves of the white robe he wore. They were too short, exposing thick hairy wrists. He was supposed to feel holy, he supposed. He just felt cold.
“Oh, you look fine, Brother Dwayne,” said Missy Collier. She looked up from her mimeographed church program and gave him a smile. Missy, now, she was a pretty woman. A little old for his taste and married to old Vern Collier besides, but three children hadn’t hurt her figure none, and he figured he wouldn’t kick her out of bed if she fell in. It occurred to him (a little late to do any good) that a Sunday morning baptismal service wasn’t the time to be thinking about that kind of thing, especially with her being married and all. Still, he had to wonder about what she was wearing under her white robe. Underwear, for sure. Front-hook bra? High-cut panties?