Chapter 2

“Gonna go all tough guy if they don’t?”

Beau winked. “Possibly.”

“You probably could. You look like a guy who doesn’t take any shit. If you were wearing a suit, and a…what do they call those hats in gangster movies?”

“Fedoras.”

“Yeah. Them. If you had one of those you’d pass for someone in the mob.”

Beau shook his head as they left the alley and started down the street. “Mob guys look just like anyone else these days.”

“That’s no fun.”

“Maybe not for you, but they don’t want to stand out as what they are. I mean, would you, if you were them?”

“No. I guess not.”

All the while that they were talking, Beau was keeping an eye, and an ear, open for any signs someone else might try to attack him. He suspected Cap, the S.O.B. he’d killed, had gotten lucky, spotting him as he entered the alley, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Especially since the kid was walking right beside him.

There were a few people around, going from the club, across from the alley, to their cars. The last of the die-hards, who stuck around until they were kicked out. It was my bad luck, Cap being there. Stops in for a drink, happens to look out the damned window, and decides to take a chance he can take me out before I knew he was around. If he’d kept his mouth shut, he might have.

“You think someone else could be around?” Rick asked, barely above a whisper. “You keep looking at everyone, and everything.”

“Probably not,” Beau replied. “No sense being stupid, though.”

“Why didhe come after you?”

“Like I said, he had a beef with me. About what is none of your business.”

Rick looked hurt for a moment. Then he grinned. “You area mobster and a rival gang wants you out of the picture, for good.”

Beau laughed. “This isn’t a movie.” In fact, Rick had almost hit the nail on the head, only it wasn’t a rival gang after him. It was his own people. I’m stupid, being out here. Was the minute I decided to take a walk before I got full-blown cabin fever. He did a fast check, as they turned the corner onto the street holding the diner. No one seemed the least bit interested in him, or them. Two minutes later, he was opening the diner door.

The place was almost empty, other than the guy behind the counter, a tired-looking waitress, and two men seated in separate booths—both of them engrossed in eating. Beau led the way to a booth at the back, well away from the window.

“Order whatever you want,” Beau told Rick. “I’m paying.”

Rick didn’t argue, taking the menu from the holder to look at it. When the waitress came over, pad in one hand, pencil in the other, Beau ordered coffee.

“What about you, kid,” the waitress asked.

“A double cheeseburger with everything, fries, and a soda,” Rick replied. “Medium on the burger, please.”

She wrote down his order, took it to the cook, then returned with Rick’s soda and a coffee pot. After filling Beau’s cup, she went back to sit at the counter.

“How come you’re not eating,” Rick asked.

“Not hungry.”

“Then why…?”

Beau shrugged. “You look like you could use some fattening up. Consider this my donation toward making that happen.”

“You’re trying to bribe me to keep my mouth shut,” Rick retorted with a brief grin.

“If I was, there’s your chance to ignore it and do the right thing,” Beau said as a squad car went by the diner, running lights and siren.

“Naw. Like I said, the guy was asking for it.” Rick stared at Beau for a long moment. “I never would have figured, looking at you, that you could make moves like that, though.”

Beau smiled dryly. “Practice.”

“Military? Or, umm, martial arts?”

“For sure not the military,” Beau replied. “Never had any martial arts training.”

Rick continued studying him. “You learned how to defend yourself on the streets.”

Beau merely nodded as the waitress came back with Rick’s food. For the next few minutes, Rick’s concentration was on what he was eating. Beau kept an eye on the door to the diner, ready to leave by the back entrance, fast, if anyone he recognized came in. He was carrying, although he hadn’t needed his gun to take Cap down. In here, if someone showed up? He wasn’t about to engage in a gun battle where innocent people could get shot, so running was the only alternative.

“That was good,” Rick said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I should have saved some of it though, for later,” he added regretfully.