Temptation Town Read Online Free PDF

out
anything, okay?"
    She
nodded, as I helped her up off the bed.
    I gave
her a big hug, then said, "You're a brave girl, you know that? And Emily —
that's Stormy's real name — would be proud of you for being such a good
friend to her, for trying to help her."
    "Emily?
I never knew that." She finally broke a smile through red, tear-dimmed
eyes. "Mine's Patty." Now, she looked like she could live next door.
    "All
right, Patty." I held her face with both hands, as our smiling eyes
connected. "First off, don't tell Sonny about any of this. About me, us
here today, nothing. If anyone asks, it was just another routine date.
Okay?"
    "Okay.
I tell him nothing."
    "And
call me when you hear anything about Emily. And I mean anything."
    She
promised she would, and she left. I closed the door behind her, then collapsed
on the bed. Out on the freeway, the traffic had thinned out a little, the wind
whipping against the window. I picked up the phone and ordered two more
Scotches from room service, one for now, one for five minutes from now.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
7

 
    CONTRARY to what I
had hoped, the whole thing didn't go away overnight. Late in the afternoon, my
cell phone rang, waking me from a particularly deep nap on my couch. I couldn't
open my eyes quite yet. I groped the coffee table, feeling for the phone.
Flipping it open, I mumbled a hello.
    "Jack?
Jack? Is that you?"
    I heard
desperation in that female voice. I snapped awake, rising up on one elbow.
    "Yes.
Speaking. Who's this?"
    "Jack,
it's Patty. I know where Emily is."
    I sat
upright. "Where? What happened?"
    "She
texted me a few minutes ago, asking if it was okay to talk, meaning is Sonny
around. I told her it was clear and she called my cell. I just now got off the
phone with her." She spoke in a quick cadence, urgency dripping from every
word.
    I
struggled to get up off the couch, so I could move around the room, trying to
clear the cobwebs.
    "Where
is she?"
    "In
a rooming house up in North Las Vegas. She asked me to bring her some money.
I'm, like, how much do you need and she goes, whatever you can spare. Four or
five hundred, anyway. She wants to leave town."
    I moved
into the kitchen, where I fished through a drawer for a pen.
    "What's
the address?" She gave it to me. "Patty, don't —"
    "I
know," she interrupted. "You don't want me to tell anyone. Don't
worry. I'm not crazy."
    I threw
on some clothes and ran out the door. Yesterday's wind had died down, but it
was still cold, somewhere in the thirties. The sinking sun promised even lower
temperatures soon.
    Just as I
was getting in my car, I paused. Turning around, I ran back inside, into my
bedroom. I yanked open the top drawer to my dresser, then reached in for my
.357. I pulled the holster around my shoulders, and grabbed two extra clips. As
a precaution against sticking, I lifted the weapon out of the holster a couple
of times, jacked a round into the chamber, then put it back in. Finally, I
threw on my jacket, hustled back to my car, then headed up to North Las Vegas.
    The
rooming house stood in a decidedly blue-collar area, decorated with lots of
pickup trucks and boat trailers and old tires. Front yards around there were
either green-going-brown, or dirt and gravel, which, in Las Vegas-speak, is
"desert landscaping".
    The house
was a one-story affair, formerly a single-family home, whose owners apparently
decided to rent out a room or two for a little extra cash. White stucco blended
with gray trim to render it completely nondescript. It fit right into the
neighborhood.
    According
to Patty, Emily's room was around back.
    Night had
fallen. I parked in the empty, garage-less driveway. With no trees anywhere on
the property, the house undoubtedly baked in the sun during high summer. I was
glad I didn't live there.
    In the
back, I found a standard-issue screen door, aluminum-framed. I knocked. I
knocked again. Then I opened it and knocked a little harder on the white wooden
door inside. The knob