Just a Whisper Away

Miss Murphy tried to put a dollar down on the table, but Danny stopped her. “Uh-uh,” he said, giving it back. “You let me share your table. I’ll get the tip.”

Smiling again, she tucked the bill back into her pocket. But then her pale eyes filled with sympathy. “Anthony, I’d love to let you go ahead of me. I know you’re eager to get busy. But I’m afraid I’ll already have a dark walk to the bus stop.”

“Don’t even suggest it,” Danny replied. Las Vegas was teeming with people who could prey on a woman alone. Men, too, he thought, glancing across the room again at the lipsticked and eye-shadowed harlot. This time, she intercepted his look and waved coyly. Dozens of tinkling silver trinkets waggled to him from her charm bracelet, and Danny wondered if they were like the notches on a gunslinger’s gun. One charm for every man she’d bedded.

Danny brought his gaze back to the angel goodness in Miss Murphy’s eyes. “Don’t worry about me. Another workstation will open up soon, and I’ll find her.” He hid the quick tickle of excitement in his belly and dropped his voice forlornly. “I’ll find her if it’s the last thing I do.”

She squeezed his arm. “I’ll pray that you do, Anthony. I was young and in love once, too.”

Taking his seat again, he watched her cane her way to the open station.

It was eight o’clock on Wednesday night, and as Danny finished his latte, he caught sight of his reflection in the café’s etched glass wall. He looked good. Different. Besides the black dye job and amber glasses, sunless tanning lotion had darkened his skin to a shade more in line with his new name, and the eyebrow pencil had darkened his brows and deepened the creases beside his mouth.