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answers,
I didn’t want Candi anywhere around if I had to be aggressive. I
didn’t know what her history with these guys was, and I didn’t want
to take any chances. As much as I wanted to trust her, something
told me I shouldn’t.
    I should always listen to
that something.
    I glanced toward the front,
and saw that Henna and the beefy one were talking to the weasel.
“Can we go out the back?” I asked Candi, who once again looked like
she wanted to melt into the woodwork.
    “ Yeah it’s back by the
bathrooms.” She gestured over her shoulder to the left of where we
sat.
    I took Candi by the hand,
and we went for the doorway under a wooden sign that read,
“Restrooms.”
    We passed under the sign and
down a short hallway, past doors on the left that read his and
hers, and two unmarked doors. Across the hall, there was a door to
a stock room, and a back entrance to the kitchen. At the end of the
hall, there glowed an exit sign, and we headed straight for
it.
    I put my hand where the
crash bar should have been, and there was nothing. After a minute’s
fumbling at either side of the jamb, Candi reached in front of me
and flipped the lever on the deadbolt, gave the door the slightest
push and it opened freely. I closed the door behind us, and we
ducked around the corner to my car.
    We got in, I started the
car, and we were on our way. When we were a couple of blocks beyond
the bar, Candi started to decompress. She produced a silver
cigarette case from somewhere and opened it, taking one out for
herself and holding the case up, offering one to me. I
declined.
    She tucked it back wherever
it came from and produced a lighter, from the same place. She lit
her smoke and took a long drag, which she held for several seconds
and then exhaled it slow, like it was her last breath.
    “ I really want to know what
the hell is going on,” I said, “Because it generally isn’t my style
to have people I don’t know point guns at me, allude to shit, and
then sneak off before I get answers.”
    She didn’t do that coy, doe
eyed harlot deal this time. She cracked the window, tossed out the
butt, and put it up again, “Do you like me Thurman?”
    I was about to pull over and
give her the business. I was tired of this game and didn’t want to
play anymore. I’m not one for pussy-footing around, not with men,
not with women; especially not with barmaids who refuse to come
clean about the racket their bosses are into.
    “ Look, whether I like you or
not don’t matter.” I growled. “Only thing that matters, until you
want to be up front with me, is that I’m dropping you off at Center
Street and driving myself home, where I am going to eat a TV dinner
and go to bed. It don’t make a horse apple worth of difference to
me if I see your mug splayed out all over the morning paper. You
don’t want to level with me; I can’t help. If you liked me, you
wouldn’t string me around and expect me not to be sore about
it.”
    Candi’s bottom lip quivered,
“So you don’t like me?”
    I gave her a sideward
glance. I couldn’t tell what she was about, and it was making me
mad.
    She started to slide over
next to me, and I waved her away. She settled back into her spot. A
moment later, she tried it again, and this time I gave her the
stiff arm.
    “ Look, I don’t do bullshit
well, and you should respect that even if you don’t respect
yourself enough not to come on to a man who you don’t really know.”
Who was I to read her the riot act? I was sitting there thinking
two things, how to have my cake and catch the bad guys
too.
    “ How am I supposed to get to
know you? You keep shoving me away when I try to get close,” she
sort of whined at me, and it pissed me off.
    “ What’s to know? You called
the dispatch this morning to report a fight. A fight that was over
and gone before I got there, less than a minute after I got the
call. Not a stick of furniture out of place in the joint, and
you’re all ix-nay and hush about it while