Page 1 of Sting

Prologue

Exactly twenty-two minutes before Mickey Bolden met his maker, he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth and said, “A woman walks into a bar.”

Shaw Kinnard, hunched forward on the bar stool next to Mickey’s and, staring into his drink with every indication of boredom, gave the shot glass of tequila a couple of idle turns. “Yeah? And?”

“And nothing.”

“That’s the joke?”

“No joke, and not a damn thing about this is funny.”

As though he’d been popped with a rubber band, Shaw’s boredom vanished. His head snapped around to look at Mickey.

The man’s eyes were no larger than raisins and half shuttered by pillows of fat, but Shaw was able to follow their tracking movement from one side of the beer joint to the other. Tempted as he was to take a look for himself, he stayed on his partner’s bloated face. In dread of the answer, he asked, “Any woman in particular?”

“Particularly, our woman.”

“She’s here?”

“As I live and breathe.” Mickey dusted popcorn salt off his hands. “Currently at one o’clock over your right shoulder, claiming a stool where the bar crooks, so don’t turn around, ’cause she’s facing this way.”

Mickey’s grin suggested that the two of them were engaged in easy conversation, when, in fact, Jordie Bennett’s unexpected arrival came as a jolt.

“Well this sure as hell screws the pooch,” Shaw muttered. “She alone?”

“Came in that way.” One of Mickey’s puffy eyes closed in a wink. “But the night is young.” His smirk only made him uglier, if that was possible.

Shaw lowered his gaze back to his glass of Patrón Silver. “You think she’s made us?”

“Naw. How could she?”

“Then what the hell is she doing here?”

Mickey shrugged. “Maybe the lady’s thirsty.”

“She gets thirsty the day we hit town?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Strange things make me nervous.”

“’Cause you don’t have the experience I do,” Mickey said.

With unconcealed scorn, Shaw gave the other man a once-over, thinking that in this instance, experience amounted to a stupid and dangerous complacency. “I’m not exactly a rookie at this,” he said.

“Then you should know to keep your cool if the plan develops a kink.”

“A kink? This is a sheepshank.”

“Maybe. But until we know better, I’m gonna look at it as a wild coincidence and not jump to conclusions that are probably wrong. Shit happens. Best-laid plans get shot to hell. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow and improvise.”

“Yeah? Well what if the flow floats you into an ocean of sewage?”

“Relax, bro,” Mickey drawled. “Everything’s okay. She’s giving the place a survey, casual like, not like she’s looking for anybody in particular. Her baby blues skipped right past me, didn’t light.”

Shaw snorted as he raised his glass to his mouth. “Because you’re butt ugly.”

“Hey, there’s plenty of ladies that like me.”

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