“What does ‘pretty much’ mean?”
“It means I have important questions and he didn’t know shit.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the girl tried to cut Saint James and that he ran off somewhere called Blue Heaven but he didn’t know where it was.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing. I had to twist his greasy arm to do some Tick Tock work for a guy I know. That’s all.”
She nods like she’s deep in thought. “So, he told you where this Saint James is and his motives for going there. And that the ghost girl attacked him specifically, not randomly. He also agreed to do tens of thousands of dollars of Tick Tock work for, I’m guessing, free. You call that nothing?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds like something, but I’m telling you, the way it came out of his whiskey hole, it sure seemed like a lot of nothing.”
“I’m glad I could help you take a second look. Now I’d like to go before anybody sees me talking to you.”
“What happened to your face? Did Cairo do that to you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I know but I’m uncouth, so I thought I’d ask.”
“And I answered.”
There’s something about her.
“Have we met before? I mean before Blackburn’s.”
“Why did I even bother talking to you? You’re as bad as King. Leave me alone.”
She takes a couple of steps back and detours around me, heading the way she’d been walking when I stopped her.
I’m making all kinds of friends today.
When I get back to the van, Candy says, “Who was that? Another one of your porn stars?”
“Someone who tried to help me but then I asked a dickheaded question.”
“She’s the one who told you about Cairo?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks like she told you the truth. There he is. Who’s that with him?”
“No idea.”
Cairo is walking on the other side of the street screaming and waving his arm like a windup gorilla. A few feet in front of him is a pretty dark-haired girl in a long sweater and boots over a tiger-print dress. He gets up right behind her, shouting loud enough that people turn to look. He curses at them too. Tiger Stripe Girl keeps walking, trying hard to ignore him. The leather bag on her shoulder slips and slides down her arm. Cairo puts a hand out and grabs the strap. Tiger Girl turns and shoves him hard with both hands. He grabs her arms and shouts in her face. Tiger Girl’s face switches from disgust to fear. She bends back at the waist to keep some distance between her and Cairo.
I get out of the van and start across the street.
Horns honk. Growling engines pass behind me. Most cars stop. I squeeze between them and wave on the rest.
Cairo turns to check out the noise and sees me. He smiles. Gives me the finger. Tiger Girl tries to pull away but he has her tight and he’s dragging her to his door. She swings one of her heavy boots out and roundhouses Cairo in the shin. He screams a stream of cryptic ’Bama curses and drops her arm, holding his leg. He lunges at Tiger Girl but pulls up short. Now it’s his turn to look scared. He backs away and fumbles keys from his pocket. Opens the steel door to his building and slams it shut.
Tiger Girl stands there with the strap in her hand and her bag on the ground, having no idea what just happened. I do. The little ghost girl is behind her. Maybe twenty feet away and walking fast. She’s laughing that high childish tinkling laugh. Finally Tiger Girl hears her and turns around. She just stands there. She knows who the girl is, and like most normal people when confronted with flat-out evil, her brain vapor locks and she freezes in place. Me, I pull the Sig and start shooting.
Cars skid. People scream and dive for cover.