It had been years since he'd had the chance to fuck a young girl, and one this pretty. He seriously doubted if he had ever had one in his life who looked half as good as she did. He licked his lips, lust flaming in his eyes.
"Well now," he began, "I just might do that for you, if you wouldn't mind my coming back later on and checkin' on you. You know," he added, as he saw anger jump into her eyes, "just to see if you're gettin' along all right."
Janet knew just what the old man had on his mind. She was young but she was far from being a fool. Ever since she was ten she had seen the look in men's eyes whenever they saw her. Now that she was getting older, she saw it more often. And besides, she had heard her brothers talking about it. At times, Ronald had tried putting his hand under her miniskirt, but she had always stopped him, telling him that she wouldn't do anything until after she was married. Ronald only laughed, but the hot flow of desire was in his eyes and hands. When he kissed her, he could hardly control himself. His hands went everywhere.
Suddenly she decided to use the man's lust to her advantage. After all, she reasoned, she didn't have to open the door when he came back.
"That might be all right," she said softly, then added, "How much does one of these rooms cost for the day? Until tomorrow at least?"
The driver rubbed his chin. "I don't know, miss. This early in the morning it's hard to tell. I better go in and find out for you."
He pulled the cab out of the entrance and climbed out. She watched him walk away, a strong distaste filling her mouth. Men were beasts, she reflected, as she stared after him. He was old enough to be her father, yet here he was trying to hit on her.
In a matter of minutes the cab driver was back. He opened the rear door so that he could get a better look at her legs. From the miniskirt she wore, she revealed long, lovely thighs, which filled his mind with lust.
"It's going to cost sixteen dollars, girl," he said, not bothering to take his eyes off her pretty legs. "If you should happen to be short of cash," he managed to say, "I wouldn't mind loaning you what you need."
Again he wet his lips as he imagined laying his gray head down between her soft thighs. He could feel his penis getting hard and, without really realizing it, he dropped his hand down on it.
Janet turned her head away as she fumbled in her purse. "No, that's not necessary. I have enough money to last me," she said and held out a twenty-dollar bill. "I believe that's enough for the room and for your fare. Whatever else is left, you can have it for the trouble you're going through."
He took the money out of her hand, letting his fingers grip her wrist until she almost snatched it out of his grasp. As the man walked away, she could feel herself fighting down the urge to vomit. Please, Ronald, please, she begged quietly, be home this time when I call.
While waiting for the driver to come back with her key, Janet climbed out of the cab and began to remove her suitcases. She wished she knew which room he was getting for her so that she could start carrying them to it.
The driver returned, swinging a key from his hand. Instead of handing it to her, he picked up two of her bags and walked off, searching for the number. Silently she lifted the remaining bag and followed him. She decided at once that she wouldn't enter the room until he was out of her sight. The room was upstairs on the second landing.
Janet climbed the steps quickly, but first she had to stop and make him go ahead of her. He had wanted to come up behind her, but she was having none of that. She wished now that she had brought the hunting knife her father had given her. In her anger, she had tossed most of the things that weren't necessary on the bed and left them. Most of the articles her father had given her were left at home.
As she followed the man, she remembered the long hours when she was younger that her father had spent with her, teaching her how to throw a knife so that it stuck in the middle of the target. She had become good but had never come close to acquiring the skill her father had. He was uncanny; his ability was incredible. She remembered seeing him hit the bull's-eye ninety-nine times out of a hundred, never being more than an inch off from the main spot.
The cab driver stopped at a room that had "204" on the door. He set the baggage down and opened it. Stepping back, he nodded for her to go in front of him. She stopped and shook her head.
"Could I have my key now?" she inquired in a shaking voice.
She hated the little girl sound she imagined her voice betrayed. Janet held out her hand. They stood that way for a minute or two until the driver shifted his feet, not knowing which way to tackle his problem. He had believed that once he got inside the room with her he might be able to talk her into a little lovemaking.
"Say, honey, suppose I run across the street to the whiskey store and get us a pint, huh?" he asked, coming up with the only way he knew to approach a woman.
"No, thank you," Janet said coldly, still holding out her hand. "I would like very much to get my key from you. I've had a very trying time and now I only want to rest."
"Well, now," he began, "I was thinkin' on them very same lines. I been driving all morning and it would be nice if I stretched out my legs for a while, too."
Finally it dawned on her that being evasive wouldn't do any good. Her cold black eyes became mirrors of black ivory revealing a resemblance to her father. "Mister, I'm tryin' to be nice about it," she said, as she stared into his reddish, weak eyes.
He attempted to grin at her, showing broken and yellowish teeth. "That's what I'm hopin' for, honey, that you'll be nice to an old man," he whined.
Contempt appeared in her eyes as her temper blew. "Listen, you silly old bastard, I'm tryin' to pull your coat nicely, but if that won't do any good, I took your cab number down and if you keep fuckin' with me I'm going to spend a dime and call the police and tell them one of the best lies you ever heard! Now, they might not believe me, but by the time you get through explaining it to them, the cab company you drive for ain't goin' want to hear 'bout nothing you got to say, 'cause I'm under age and you ain't had no reason to come to the motel with me!"
She saw the fear leap into his eyes and continued. "Now, I ain't goin' ask you but one more time to give me my key. I paid for it and I want it without no bullshit!"
The man began to struggle with his anger and fear. Her words had shaken him to his very being. It was easy as hell for her to cause him trouble, he realized at once, and at his age, if he lost this job his ass would be up shit's creek.
"Now, now, young lady, it ain't no reason for you to carry on like that. I didn't mean no harm, none at all," he whined, as he fumbled with the key. He stuck it into her outstretched hand. "That's one hell of a way for you to carry on, girl, after the trouble I went through for you."
"You got paid for it, didn't you?" she said, still not stepping into the room.
She stood with her hands on her hips until she saw him go down the stairway. Then she waited, standing at the rail, until he got in his cab and started it up. A great feeling of relief overcame her as she stumbled into the room and slammed the door behind her. She made sure the lock was on, then fell out across the bed and began to weep.
Deep sobs escaped from her. Her back rose and fell with the passion of her tears. Desperately she buried her face in the pillow and repeated Ronald's name over and over again. It seemed as if the tears and the repetition of her boyfriend's name gave her some kind of relief. Eventually she stopped crying and the sweet balm of sleep overcame her; she drifted off with her tear-streaked cheeks buried into the soft pillow.
DADDY COOL LISTENED to his wife clearing the breakfast dishes away from the large dining-room table. Her two sons still sat at the table, their heads down as they stared silently at the floor.
Pacing back and forth in the living room, Larry stopped and glared back at the two boys in the dining room. His eyes were bleak as he took in their crestfallen appearance. For the past half hour he had been giving both the boys tongue-lashings for their stupidity in allowing their sister to run away from home.
It had been over a week now since Janet had left, and since then, Daddy Cool had done something he had never imagined himself doing: he had reported her runaway to the police.
"Now, I'm tellin' you two worthless bastards," Daddy Cool began again, "I want ya out in the streets findin' out where that punk-ass would-be pimp has your sister hid! If you can't find out where she is, find out where he is. If I can find his ass, I'll find out where Janet is stayin', you can bet on that!" Daddy Cool resumed his pacing up and down the long, well-furnished living room.
Buddy, a slim brown-skinned boy with the beginnings of a sandycolored beard, tried to reason with his stepfather. "Dad, take it easy, man. Don't you know you'll be the first person we'd tell. I mean," he added as he saw his stepfather stop pacing and listen to his words, "it's like this, man. Everybody who knows what's happenin' is keepin' the news from us, 'cause it's common knowledge you're real upset over this shit."
"Upset ain't the word," Jimmy cracked, then regretted his quick retort.
"You better damn well believe upset ain't the word," Daddy Cool stated, glaring angrily at the young boy. "You give me the impression that this is all a big fuckin' joke to you, Jimmy."
Jimmy quickly shook his head, denying what was really the truth. This was the first time in his life he had ever seen anything upset his stepfather, and he enjoyed the older man's discomfort. But common sense told him he had better conceal his enjoyment if he wanted to live at Daddy Cool's house. His mother had already told him that they were walking on dangerous ground, and it wasn't beyond their stepfather's imagination to kick both of them out into the streets.
There was nothing their mother could do about it either, because she had been informed that she could follow them if she felt so inclined. The very thought of the bastard telling his mother some shit like that filled Jimmy with a silent rage that he anxiously concealed.
"Naw," Jimmy answered slowly, "I don't see nothin' funny 'bout none of this. I'm just as worried over Janet's whereabouts as the rest of you."
Daddy Cool stared coldly at the young boy. He couldn't be sure of his suspicions, but if he ever found out that Jimmy actually helped her to get away, there would be hell to pay. The ring of his private telephone came to his ear.
There were two telephones in the house-one everybody could use, and the red one, which stayed in Daddy Cool's bedroom with a lock on it. He never used it to make outside calls. It was there for one reason, so that his private clients could reach him without any delay. Angrily, he stalked off toward his bedroom to answer the telephone.
Buddy glanced over at his younger brother. "You better play it cool, Jimmy, and try to keep that sneer off your face. Daddy Cool ain't playin', man. He's really upset over this shit."
Jimmy glared at his older brother. "Man," he drawled, "fuck Daddy Cool!" The words were low enough so that no one except his brother could overhear them.
Buddy shrugged his wide shoulders. "Okay, smart ass, you make your own bed, so you'll be the one to end up layin' in it," Buddy stated, then added, "As far as I'm concerned, I like livin' here where I'm not bothered about paying rent and buying food. So I'm going to do everything I can to help find Janet. Whatever you do, please keep it to yourself, 'cause I know you ain't got enough sense to get on the winning side."
"What you mean by that?" Jimmy asked sharply.
"You know what I mean," Buddy replied. "Ain't nobody no fool, unless it's you. I got the wire about you ridin' around with Ronald yesterday, man, so don't play games with me. If you've been around Ronald, you know where he's keepin' Janet. In fact, you more than likely have seen her."
Jimmy grinned crookedly. "Aw, man, where you keep gettin' bullshit wires like that, huh?" But it was a fact that he had ridden with Ronald for a little while. The man had wanted to know what Daddy Cool was doing and had paid Jimmy fifty dollars for telling him that Daddy Cool had turned in a missing person's report to the police.
Ronald had cussed and called Daddy Cool all kinds of names, but nevertheless, he had taken precautions after that and made sure that Janet stayed inside. The last thing he wanted was to be busted for having a minor in his company.
Buddy watched his brother's lips pull down into a sneer. "Man," he said sharply, "you think you're doing something slick, Jimmy, but you ain't doing nothing but gettin' ready to fuck yourself up."
Jimmy waved his brother silent. "Dig, Buddy, I know what I'm doing, man. All this shit about Daddy Cool this and Daddy Cool that, it don't mean shit! Maybe ten or fifteen years ago Daddy Cool was somebody, but now he ain't nobody but an old nigger who runs a poolroom."
"You know what, Jimmy?" Buddy stated quietly. "I see now what your problem is. You're just a goddamn fool, that's all. Ain't no way anybody with common sense would make the mistake you're makin' about Daddy Cool."
Jimmy sneered. "Man, fuck that shit! I don't even care to hear about it no more, you dig?"
Buddy just shrugged his shoulders as he stared at his younger brother. He realized there was nothing he could do. Jimmy would just have to learn the hard way. That was the only way he'd get the message.
After leaving the front room, Daddy Cool hurried into his bedroom. Before picking up the telephone he thought about who it might be and knew at once who it was. The same person had called him last night, and he'd turned the job down.
Now, before even picking up the receiver, he was sure it would be Al on the line again. He just didn't want to take no for an answer. If it wasn't for the difficulties he was having at home with his daughter, he would have taken the job, but the way things were now, he knew that his mind wouldn't be completely on his work.
"Hello," he said, cradling the receiver in his neck as he reached in his pocket and got out his smokes. "Yeah, this is me. What's happenin', Al?"
Daddy Cool listened for a second, then stated, "Al, we went through all this shit last night on the phone. If I could have seen my way clear, I would have taken the job then. No, man, it ain't the money. I'm not trying to make you go higher."
After listening for a few minutes, Daddy Cool let out a low whistle.
"Oh boy, you're really tryin' to make it hard for me to get out of this one, ain't you? Goddamn, Al, twenty-five grand is a hell of a lot of money for a job, and I appreciate you offerin' it to me. I tell you what, Al, give me a few hours to think on it. I've got problems at home right now; that's why I don't want to leave town right this minute. But for twenty-five grand, I might have to change my plans."
Daddy Cool hesitated, then continued. "Call me back at fourthirty. By then I'll be able to let you know one way or the other just what I'll do, okay?"
He listened to the man's voice on the other end of the line, then hung up. He smoked his cigarette slowly, thinking about the money he had been offered. It wasn't that he really needed the money, but the idea of passing up such a sweet thing bothered him. Twentyfive grand for a hit was top dollar.
"Goddamn this girl," he cursed out loud. Then, seething with frustration, he ground his cigarette out in the ashtray beside his bed.
For the next hour Daddy Cool argued back and forth with himself, always keeping in mind the amount of money he would lose if he did what his heart wanted him to do: stay at home and find his wayward daughter. Nuts to that shit, he cursed. I'm not about to let any damn girl or woman knock me out of that kind of money.
Determined now to take the job, Daddy Cool picked up the private telephone in his room, only to slam it back down. He stalked out of the bedroom and went into the front room. There he picked up the receiver and dialed the number to his poolroom.
"Hello, Earl," he snapped.
"Yeah, this is Earl," came the reply. For a second, Earl couldn't catch the voice on the other end, but as Daddy Cool began to speak, Earl finally understood.
"Listen, Earl, I'm thinkin' 'bout taking a trip. I got a job I got to handle," Larry stated.
"You want I should go along with you?" Earl asked, his voice not revealing any of the horror the big man had for going in
to the street.
"No, I can handle it myself, Earl, but what I want you to do while I'm gone is stay on this thing dealing with Janet. If you find out where she's at, don't make any moves. I'll call you when I get to Los Angeles and let you know where I'm staying. So all I really want you to do is be my ears while I'm gone."
"You want I should take care of the pimp?" Earl asked.
For a second, Daddy Cool hesitated, thinking the request over. It would be a good time to take the young pimp out of it. Being out of town was the best alibi in the world. That way nobody could put the deed at his doorstep.
"I don't know, Earl. I had better wait awhile and find out just how much Ronald is involved with Janet. I'd hate to do something to the kid, then find out he really didn't have her stashed away somewhere," Daddy Cool stated, after slow deliberation. The idea had been such a good one that he was really tempted. It was a wonderful opportunity to get the young pimp out of his hair once and for all.
Earl, listening closely, could tell his friend was undecided. "It won't be no trouble, Larry. Just give me the go-ahead sign and I'll take care of it for you."
Daddy Cool laughed. "Don't be in such a hurry, Earl. All in good time, brother, all in good time." But even as Daddy Cool made the statement, the image of the young pimp flashed across his mind, and for a brief second he was like some frenzied beast who had caught the scent of his prey. It was hard for him to tolerate the thought of his young daughter laying up at nights with the boy. Assassination was really the simplest solution to his problem.
Before he weakened and gave Earl an order he might come to regret, Daddy Cool hung up the receiver. He stared down at the telephone while his subconscious mind ran wild, picturing bedroom scenes that it would have been best not to think about.
Invariably his thoughts came back around to the decision he had made about taking the contract. He debated with himself on the merits of that. Common sense told him that it was too much money to pass up for any flimsy reason. Janet had made her bed, so she would just have to lie in it. Concentrating on the upcoming job, he was finally able to put the brooding thoughts of Janet out of his mind.