Page 25 of His Old Lady

Chapter 8

Curley

Frank pulled a pieceof paper out of his vest pocket and held it up in front of Curley. "This is it, brother."

Taking a look at the black and white Harley Davidson picture ripped out of the newspaper, he whistled softly. "Sweet. How many owners?"

"Only one. It's been garaged for ten years, and the widow mentioned she was ready to sell her dead husband's ride. I'm going over and taking a look at it. If the bike turns out like I expect it will, I'll take her the money in the morning and be riding that baby home." Frank slipped the paper back into his pocket. "Want to tag along?"

"Yeah." He caught sight of Paco waving him over. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be ready to roll."

He walked over to Paco and followed him out the door. "What's up?"

Paco widened his stance and crossed his arm. "That job I needed to do this morning?"

"Yeah."

"It had to do with Faye," said Paco.

His body hardened, and the noise from the bikers behind him revving their motorcycles faded away. "What the hell do you mean?"

Paco's gaze flinched. "The other day I was at Kingston Bar. I overheard one of the bartenders talking about how Lance had hired a group of gals to start working—new blood, you know, to liven the place up."

"What's that have to do with Faye?" He grabbed a cigarette, needing something to do with his hands before he punched someone.

"It caught my attention, man. I knew about Faye trying to work at Riverside Bar, and I rode with Prez when he talked to the manager there about not hiring her." Paco paused. "So, when another bar in town mentions a group of girls, I had to find out if it was Faye and her friends."

His spine stiffened. "Faye's a waitress. She's not going to work at a titty bar."

"That's what I thought, too, but—"

"What the fuck are you telling me?"

"I spotted her car the other day parked at Kingston Bar." Paco grabbed Curley's vest when he stepped back. "Bro, it was just a feeling."

"You should've come to me." Curley shoved Paco's hand off him. "That place is even worse than Riverside Bar."

"I'm not done."

"Jesus..." Curley fisted his right hand. "Finish."

"Earlier, my hunch came true. Faye showed up at Kingston with three women with her. Real lookers, all of them." Paco shook his hand. "I talked to her. She wouldn't tell me why she was there and left alone. I went inside and talked to Lance—the owner. He's an active manager there."

"I know him."

"He informed me that he'd hired Faye and some of her girlfriends to work three nights a week—Wednesday, Friday, Saturday. They're the new waitresses."

His jaw locked. "Faye's working at the titty bar?"

"Far as I know."

Rage curled in his chest. He tossed his burnt-out cigarette to the ground. He couldn't believe Faye was mixed up in that shit.

He'd checked up on Faye numerous times, unannounced, at the lounge she'd worked at in Superior. There were no titty dancers there. The rowdiest it got was when some asshole threw a bottle at his twice-removed cousin during a family argument over who owed who twenty bucks.

Not only had he witnessed her working, but she'd also told him enough about her old job, he had no worries.

He stepped toward his motorcycle, needing to see her and find out that Paco was wrong.

"Wait..." Paco caught up with him. "Where are you going?"

"To Superior and bust down her door and get the truth." He lifted his leg over the seat of his Harley.

"It's Saturday." Two bikes down, Paco got on his Motorcycle. "She'll be at Kingston Bar working."

He roared the Harley to life. Wherever she was, he was going to find her. And if he found out she was taking her clothes off for other men, she'd find out quick what being his old lady meant.

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