Page 73 of A Cry in the Dark

That was when a ruckus broke out on the opposite side of the bar.

Two brawny fellows in saggy jeans and ball caps low over their eyes pushed one another as the electric guitar riffed, introducing the song.

Curses ensued and the shorter man cracked a pool stick and came for the other guy in a drunken vengeance. Their friends worked to break it up to no avail, and tables toppled and chairs tipped over.

“You going to do anything about that?” Cecil casually asked as he sipped his beer.

“Nope.” Violet could care less if the locals kicked the junk out of each other. She hoped it’d get rowdier, then it might produce Whiskey.

Beer bottles crashed to the floor, shattering glass. A crowd grew. Sides were taken.

John glanced at a man in a corner booth, but the guy downed his bourbon and kissed the girl beside him. John threw his hands up and entered the fray to bring order. As if a badge would bring peace to this war. And why did he look to the man for any help? Must be the undercover DEA agent—Greg.

John hollered, “Police!”

It fell on deaf ears.

And Violet looked on. Waiting.

“Your buddy’s gonna get his head bashed in, you know. That’s Bear Wheeler and his cracked-out crew. Ain’t nothin’ good comin’ of this.”

The commotion spilled into the bar area and the dance floor, knocking couples to the floor and inciting men to take up for their women. The only thing missing was the cartoon swirls of smoke around them.

A pool ball flew over their heads and crashed into the mirror behind the bar.

Violet ducked and turned to check on Cecil, but like that earlier lightning move, he’d already vanished. She crouched under the bar, searching for John in time to see a barrel-chested guy coldcock him.

Now, she was going to do something about it.

Growling under her breath, she pulled her weapon and left the credentials where they belonged. The floor was littered with glass, peanuts and napkins, slick with alcohol, blood and broken furniture. Violet was ready to shut this mess down.

John was on the floor rolling around with the jackwagon who’d sucker-punched him. She began her march to end it all when a sound caught her attention.

Crying from behind the bar.

Not a woman’s cries.

A child’s.

She weaved and bobbed through the chaos and clutter to find a little boy about three, maybe four, in race car pajamas crying for his mommy and holding a little cowboy rag doll. Who brings a kid to a bar?

Another bottle struck the wall behind the bar.

The floor was a sheath of shattered glass. The boy had on footy pajamas—no shoes. “Stay there. I’m coming to you.” Then she planned to stalk down the parent or guardian and kick the dumb out of them for bringing him here then abandoning him. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she kept offering as she maneuvered around the shards. She scooped up the baby. “Where’s your mama?”

“I don’t know. I fink hers upstairs.” He hiccupped and clung to Violet’s neck like a vise.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here. Then we’ll find your mama.” And kill her.

John would have to handle the guy on his own. He was a big boy. Right now, this child needed help. She found the closest exit, but it was packed with people trampling one another to get away. Weren’t there bouncers in the bar?

The room behind the bar. She had no clue what was back there, but it was her only clear shot. She kicked the door open and entered a large illegal gambling room. Full of tables with men and women drinking, playing... She covered the child’s eyes. Some things going on were highly inappropriate. A guy stood.

Violet pulled her gun and aimed it at his face. “Sit down.” She’d pull the trigger, and her tone conveyed it. The man sat.

“What’s going on out there?” a woman asked through slurs.

“Nobody moves until I’m out the door with this child.” Violet strode to a door on the east wall at the back of the building and opened it with the hand she had around the little boy, keeping her eyes on the room full of inebriated patrons. Once she was outside, she kicked it shut and took off around the front. The fight had made its way into the parking lot.

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