Tall, Dark And Texan

Wendy took the coat off the hanger, slid into it and checked out her reflection in a nearby mirror. “Ooh!” she cooed, looking back over her shoulder at Wolfe. “She’s right! It’s really me, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s you, all right.”

She gave him a sigh of mock disgust. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a compliment out of you, anyway?”

“This is a job, not a date.”

“Then I’m betting you have a lot more jobs than dates.”

“My personal life is none of your business.”

“Have you ever thought about smiling once in a while? Just a tiny bit?”

“Waste of energy.”

“So you’re always this crabby?”

He pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the counter, pointedly ignoring her.

“Having a bad day?”

He said nothing.

“Bad month?”

Not a word.

“Well, it certainly can’t be a systemic problem. Not with those fiber-loaded power bars you eat. A few of those once a week and you’ll never, ever have to worry about—”

He clamped his hand onto her arm and pulled her aside, dropping his voice to an angry whisper. “Do you want this job, or don’t you?”

She blinked with surprise. “Of course I do.”

“It requires shutting the hell up when it’s necessary. And it’s necessary from here on out. Do you think you can handle that?”

She raised her eyebrows. “So I’m supposed to play the sexy, silent type?”

“That’s right.”

She gave him a sly smile. “What if the guy wants me to talk dirty?”

Wolfe just stared at her, shaking his head slowly. The clerk returned. He grabbed the sack from her hand, stuffed Wendy’s clothes inside and hustled her out of the store.

5

AS WOLFE DROVE toward Sharky’s, he felt more than a little unnerved by the woman sitting beside him. Not that she didn’t look the part he wanted her to play. The clothes and makeup were right on the money, showcasing her body in a way that would make just about any man sit up and take notice. But he hated questionable outcomes, and he sensed one right now. Everything about this woman felt edgy and out of control.

Then again, all she had to do was get the guy to walk out the door of that bar. That was all. Any woman should be able to pull that off, especially one with a body like hers. Forget her unnaturally amplified breasts. Her legs alone would have Mendoza panting in her wake.

Wolfe brought his Chevy to a halt at a red light, then reached for his clipboard in the back seat. He flipped through the pages, grabbed a photo and handed it to Wendy.

“This is the guy. He jumped bail on a burglary charge.”

Wendy took the photo. “Are you sure he’ll be at the bar this early?”

“My informant told me that he’s coming back today around noon for a game of pool. Grudge match. High stakes. He’ll be there.”

“So why don’t the cops just pick him up?”

“Too many bail jumpers, not enough time. That’s where I come in. Once a guy misses his court date, the bondsman can send somebody after him. I’m that somebody.”

“So if this guy is wanted by the police, why is he hanging out in a public place?”

“It’s what guys like him always do. They’ll change addresses, they’ll change jobs, but they’ll rarely change their routines. I’ve picked up guys everywhere from bowling alleys to pizza parlors to whorehouses. Anything they’ve done in the past few years, they’ll continue to do.”

“That’s kinda stupid, isn’t it?”

“Most criminals are.”

“Why don’t you just go in there and grab him? You’ve got to be bigger than this guy. I mean, like, way bigger.”

“Because that bar is friendly territory for him, enemy territory for me. I’ve found a lot of guys in this area. If I show my face inside, somebody might recognize me, and all hell is liable to break loose.”

“Do you really think anyone is going to mess with you?”

“Drunk lowlife? Yep. In a heartbeat. That’s chaos. I don’t like chaos. I like nice, calm apprehensions where nobody gets mad, nobody gets hurt, and nobody even realizes what’s going on except the guy who’s getting apprehended.”

Wendy smiled. “Gee, that sounds kinda boring.”

“Why? Because nobody’s hauling out weapons and firing at anything that moves? Fine, then. It’s boring. And I live to work another day.”

“But what if somebody does pull a gun? You’re not even armed.”

“Don’t bet on that.”

She looked at his heavy coat, sweatshirt, jeans, boots. “I give up. Where’s the weapon?”

“None of your business.”

“Just wondering how lively this job is likely to get.”

“Listen to me,” he said. “I’m always armed. Always. But in thirteen years I’ve never once fired a weapon and I’ve never been fired on. Do you know why that is?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t take chances. And you’re not going to, either. You’re going to go into that bar, tell him you’ll take him to heaven for a hundred bucks, and get him out the door.”

Her eyebrows shot up with surprise. “A hundred bucks? Is that all I’m worth?”