I quickly relocated to the large master bedroom in the rear of the bus. Elvis Presley’s designer could have created this haunt, round bed with a purple and gold bedspread, mirrored ceiling and walls, mini-bar, with inlaid white holiday lights. A lime green alligator was propped next to the purple pillows.
I heard the side door open. As much as I hated the idea of popping out from a closet, I had no choice. I stepped in and closed the door behind me, the odor of leather, shoes, and starched shirts encircled me. Within seconds, Bandini and the woman were in the bedroom.
She said, “Pretty fancy place you got here. This is like a mansion on wheels.”
“You got that right, Susan.”
“It’s Suzy.”
“Whatever. Look, I got to ride across the state to attend a funeral, and I need you to take my mind off stuff. Depression isn’t for me. God rest my baby brother.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. What do you want me to do?”
“We’re gonna do it all, and then some.”
I heard Bandini walk around the room, to the far side of the bed and press a button, a white noise filled the room. Then someone said, “Yes sir.”
“Let’s roll.”
“Headin’ out, boss.”
I could feel the transmission being put into gear, the bus move a few feet, and then start off slowly, building speed as it moved around the parking circle in front of the livestock arena.
Bandini said, “All right, Suzy. You can ditch the clothes.”
“You mind if I freshen up a bit? I just got off my shift at the club. Been dancin’ most of the night. Where’s the bathroom?”
“This bus has three Johns. The master is the door to the left. By the way, when I’m done with you, I want you to take care of the troops. But not in here. You can fuck ‘em in the middle bedroom down the hall to the left.”
“Hold on. I didn’t agree to some kind of multiple sex thing. I screw one person. That’s it. That’s what I agreed to.”
“Take it up with your boss when we ship your used ass back. I paid a grand for you, bitch. I plan to get my money’s worth, which includes watching the boys do you, too.”
“No! I’m getting off this bus.”
Bandini laughed. “Take your fuckin’ clothes off or I’ll rip ‘em off.”
“Go to hell. Stop this bus!”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
I heard him slap her hard, then the sound of clothes tearing. I pushed open the door just as Bandini had his pants down to his knees. The girl was recoiling on the floor, blood running from her mouth. I raised the pistol and said, “Back off.”
He looked at me as if a ghost had entered his bedroom. “You’re a dead man!”
“And you’re wearing your britches a little low to be a bad ass.” He fumbled under one of the purple pillow cases for a pistol. I kicked him in the center of his bare butt, the gun falling to the floor. He picked up a glass ashtray and threw it at my head. I ducked and drove my right fist into his jaw. The sound was like a dog biting into a drumstick. He tried to stand, his eyes rolling, blood seeping out of his lips. I grabbed his collar and pulled him to within a foot of me and said, “Listen very closely because I’m telling this to your face one time only. I hear you left a message for me. Bad idea not to deliver it in person. Makes me agitated. You sent your gorilla to ambush a friend of mine. You had him beaten up. Ice pick through the hand. Another bad idea.” I brought my knee up into his groin. The blow lifted him off the carpet.
He coughed blood and muttered, “Fuck you.”
I backhanded him hard across the bed, the stuffed lime-green alligator falling to the floor near the girl. I grabbed his bare feet and pulled him across the purple and gold bedspread, slamming his head against a dresser. “Bandini, you’re not listening. Here’s the deal. You touch Nick Cronus again and the crabs will be eating what’s left of you. If you send your knee-breakers out to hurt Courtney Burke, I’m coming back for you. Guess what … I’ll find you. I got on this bus. I can get to you anywhere. Is that clear?”
He stared at me through half closed, cold eyes, blood pouring from his loose teeth. “Is that clear?”
He nodded and spit blood. I said, “Now press the intercom and tell your driver to return to the main parking lot at the fairground.” I stepped back and picked up the Glock, pointing it between his eyes. “Now!”
He leaned over to pull his pants up, and walked to the speaker, looking back at me once more. “Don’t make me spray your brains across this lovely bed.”
He pressed the speaker button and said, “Eddie, head back to the fairground, main parking lot. I forgot something.”
“No problem, boss.”
I turned to the woman still on the floor, holding her ripped shirt over her breasts. I reached down and helped her up. “Come on, this is where you’re getting off the bus, too.”
“Thank you,” she said, standing.
The bus rolled to a stop. I kept the Glock in my hand, looked one final time into the burning eyes of Carlos Bandini, then I led the woman though the back of the bus to the exit door. I pushed it open and we got off. “Come on,” I said. We have to get out of here.”
We jogged through the parking lot, the sound of a helicopter in the distance. I heard the bus pull away. I turned to the girl and said, “You’re lucky. You might not have lived through what they’d planned to do to you.”
“Thank you. I’ve never had a man stand up and defend me.”
“You’re welcome. I have a couple of safety pins in my Jeep. It’ll help you keep your shirt closed. Looks like Bandini ripped most of the buttons off of it.”
I glanced over to where three carny workers stood in the shade, taking a break, smoking, drinking sodas and staring at us. “Let me give you a ride. Where’s home?”
“I can’t let you take me there. My husband’s home. Just drop me off at Big Lots down the street. I’ll buy a blouse and take a cab.”
I walked her to my Jeep. We drove for a minute in silence and then she said, “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been there. What’s your name?”
“Sean O’Brien … and yours?”
“My real name’s Angie Houston.”
“Nice to meet you Angie.”
“I heard you tell Carlos Bandini to stay away from Courtney Burke. That’s the girl who’s been all over the news, right?”
I said nothing.
“She’s the one accused of killing Tony Bandini, the brother. If Tony was anything like that man back there in the bus, I’d say that girl did the world a favor. Is she like related to you or something?”
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Detective Dan Grant. “Sean, wanted to let you know I got the okay to submit the DNA samples for testing. I was thinking … the day we picked Courtney Burke up at your boat. Did she eat or drink anything? Maybe smoke a cigarette and leave the butt somewhere?”
“No, she didn’t smoke, and she didn’t eat or drink on the boat.”
“All right. Another thing, we ran the plates on that bike. It’s owned by a guy named Samuel Nichols, AKA the Pirate, hence the skull and crossbones. He’s got a long rap sheet. Did a dime stretch in Raiford Prison for manslaughter. Former member of the Outlaws. He’s a gun for hire, no doubt. If Nick will press charges, we’ll find this guy and pick him up.”
“Nick can’t positively ID his face. And I don’t think Nick wants to go through the legal system.”
“Okay, then anything he might think of doing outside of it is illegal. And that goes for you, too, Sean.”
“Thanks, Dan.” I disconnected. After I dropped Angie off at Big Lots, I’d head to a bar.
A place called the Lone Wolf Saloon.