Jack Daniels and Associates: Snake Wine Read Online Free PDF Page B

yelling at Frank to back away and for Marvin to sit back down. Marvin slumped back down on the wooden bench as Frank stared at him. Marvin gave Frank his most malicious grin, revealing the white gold caps covering his teeth and the tiny diamonds built into them that spelled out "Ack Trife" and said, "Keep on looking, gimp. Take a real good look too, because when I get out of this, I'm a come see you next. That's a nice wedding ring. You got a real pretty wife, I bet. Keep looking. I'm a give you plenty to look at. Believe that."
    One of the deputies grabbed Frank and shoved him through the interview room door, pulling it shut the moment he was past, just trying to remove him from the situation. Frank stood in the hallway, staring through the darkened, useless window. He tried to swallow but there was no moisture in his mouth or throat. Everything felt dry and brittle inside as he limped down the hall, moving away from the sound of the deputies shouting at Keenan Marvin to stand up and shut up as they prepared him for transport.
    Jack Daniels was standing at the end of the hallway, hands stuffed in her pockets, watching him coming toward her before he realized she was there. Her expression was flat as she watched him, like the tip of an iceberg, Frank thought. He knew she wouldn't piss on him if his guts were on fire, and he didn't deserve anything else, but as he came closer she said, "Everything all right in there, Detective?"
    "It's fine, they've got it under control," Frank said. He stopped and looked at her, sifting through the words like clumps of mud, but all he came up with was, "Listen, I didn't know."
    "I can see that," Jack said, turning away from him to go for the door, unable to stand the sound and stench of the court house any longer. "But you certainly should have."
     

3.
    I got into my car and sat for a moment without turning it on, holding the steering wheel with both hands, taking long, slow breaths. I told myself it was the lack of sleep. I told myself it wasn't the endless parade of maniacs showing up in my life and at my door, ready to kill me, the cat, and whatever mope happened to win the Who-I-Slept-With-Last lottery. I told myself it wasn't that I was getting old, or that I was getting tired.
    That was enough of that. The parking lot was dark and empty, so I reached behind my passenger seat for my bag and double-checked to make sure no one was around before I slid out of my blazer and quickly unbuttoned my blouse. I tossed both of them in the backseat and pulled a light cotton top out of the bag and wiggled it over my head.
    I looked again. No lookie-loos were peeking around any of the corners, trying to get an eyeful of me in my bra and panties. The only lights I could see were from a corner pub at the end of the street advertising ten cent hot wings, and it didn't look like the advertising campaign was drawing in too much business. Word had gotten out about a bad mugging the week before. It was going to take more than ten cent wings to bring people back around. I undid my belt, slid off my gun and unbuttoned my pants, lifting my butt off the seat and pulling the pants down to my feet.
    Selecting clothes to wear for a night out is always complicated. The shirt has to be form-fitting enough so it doesn't look like I'm wearing a paper bag, but it has to be long enough and loose enough around the waist to cover up the handle of my revolver. There aren't many options for female cops. I saw a bra holster in one of the police equipment magazines left lying around the station and thought about getting one until I heard one of the guys say, "Look at this thing, it'll hold her cannons and her pistol. Har har har."
    By the time I got my jeans on and had my gun back around my hip, it was almost time to meet up with Phin. It was good to be back in regular clothes. Like I was human again. Back when I'd been in uniform, the first thing I did when I got home was strip and get changed, just to be out of it, only