Hell's Belle Read Online Free PDF

maybe even three, wasn’t sitting there all day?
    I chose one dog and examined the self-serve toppings. After deciding on mustard only, the pump squirted a huge blob on the corner of my dog. I used the hot dog to spread the mustard out evenly, licking the mess off my fingers when I finished. 
    I examined the Slurpee selection. I missed the Slurpees of my youth. The flavor choice was limited for sure, but I missed the simplicity of grape and cherry. It was too damn cold anyway. Opting to live without the sugar rush, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge down the aisle.
    “You want a coffee?” Max called out from around the microwave that was blocking us. I wrinkled my nose. Coffee from 7-Eleven? Gross.
    “No thanks.” I stopped and examined the fruit in the open refrigerator case. The poor little apple looked all bruised up. So much for healthy eating.
    I maneuvered through the aisle to the register. The classic rock-loving clerk with three-day-old stubble stared at me from leaky red-rimmed eyes. Along with the dark circles, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
    “I got his coffee, too,” I said, nodding at Max who was dumping at least 20 packets of sugar into his cup. I guess he was hoping to mask the taste.
    “ Ummm… Ahh… OK?” The clerk looked slightly baffled, like the idea of ringing up a cup of coffee halfway across the store was too taxing for his brain. Thankfully the register beeped loudly with each button he pushed, saving me from having to make awkward chitchat with a guy that was clearly stoned.
    I dug out some cash from my jacket pocket, paid the man, and then stood by the newspaper rack, staring out of the plate glass window.
                  Absorbing the view of a flickering neon sign in the shape of a woman’s extra large boobs, I bit into my hot dog, the slightly burnt skin giving my teeth a little resistance. I sighed in pleasure at the salty, nitrate-filled goodness. Max slipped up beside me, and stared out at the depressing landscape. A lone working girl was walking up and down the deserted streets, hoping for a date.
                  “Great atmosphere,” he said flatly. “And how can you be a coffee snob but eat that?” He stared as I shoved a huge chunk of hot dog into my mouth.
                  “Don’t knock ‘em,” I said through my chews. “These things hit a certain spot like no other questionable foodstuff.”
    Max laughed and wiped a bit of yellow mustard off of my cheek. With my hands hot dog free, I opened the bottle of water and chugged down about half.
    “So explain this place to me,” Max stared out at the Providence wasteland.
    The area was pretty desolate, even though it was teeming with nightclubs a little over a block away. Of course, they catered to a decidedly seedy crowd.
    “Several years ago, the city passed all sorts of ordinances that basically relegated the nudie bars to the area around the docks. We are on the strip of road that the locals called ‘Fantasy Island,’" I explained. “This road runs parallel to the water. If you keep going north, towards downtown, the clubs and sex shops get more populous.”
    There was a club for every predilection, even of the illegal sort. There was the usual illegal gambling and prostitution, but there were also rumors of production on snuff films and other freaky acts.
    Max raised his eyebrows. “Any of them any good?”
    I snorted. “Yeah about as good as the hot dogs.”
    He laughed, and shoved open the 7-Eleven door. “How far are we from the crime scene?”
    I looked over his shoulder as we walked out the door. I could see the blue and red cop lights flashing from the parking lot.
    “It’s right on the docks, just about a block that way.” I pointed left, towards the light show.
    “I’ll walk the rest of the way,” he said. “The cops probably won’t let you much closer than this anyway.”
    I straddled the bike and strapped on my helmet, feeling awkward.