After I walked inside, it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the lighting. When the room came into better focus, the big Hispanic guy I had kicked in the crotch was striding toward me from across the room. At least he wasn’t reaching for a weapon. That proved that he had some brains.

He said, “You and me got some unfinished business.” His voice sounded like a tuba.

I said, “I’m pretty satisfied with our last transaction. Are your balls still swollen?” I have no idea why I threw that last comment into the conversation. Or why I felt like I had to smile at him. It only pissed him off like I knew it would.

He squared off in front of me again. Not much different than he did the first time.

Today I had another test of his abilities in mind. I raised my left hand, just like I had during our first meeting. This time he didn’t take the bait and kept his eyes on me and his big hands near his groin.

This was another old trick I had learned. I just balled my left fist and hit him with a wild haymaker across his chin. It was spectacular. I felt his jaw shift and his head snap to the side as he staggered backward, finally plopping into a chair next to an empty table.

Then the bartender and a sturdy-looking guy at a table sprang into action. I saw a flash of metal and realized the bartender had a knife. I didn’t have time to reach into my pocket and draw my commemorative Navy knife. I angled my body to give him the smallest possible target and got ready to show some Navy pride.

Then I heard a shout.

“Cool it, everyone.”

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

THE MEN FROZE as Alton Beatty stepped into the room from a rear hallway. He had his long hair in a ponytail and was wearing a simple plaid shirt and jeans. He hardly looked the part of the successful drug dealer.

Both the men froze but didn’t retreat at Alton’s command. As he stepped closer to me he said, “Jerry, Blade, step back.”

I looked at the bartender and said, “Are you Blade?”

He smiled and nodded.

In my experience, a guy usually didn’t get a nickname like Blade for no reason. He stepped back to the bar and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Now Alton Beatty was right in front of me. He said, “In all the time I’ve known Natty, he never mentioned he had a brother.”

“I don’t brag much about him, either.”

“I hear you been askin’ about Pete Stahl. Mind telling me why?”

I really noticed his twang in simple conversation. “Where are you from? I mean, originally.”

“Outside Cincinnati.”

“For some reason I thought you were from New York City.”