Dying For LA by Ian Jones (top fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

was a little older than he had first thought, probably late twenties, and had bruises just visible under the left eye on her heavily made up face.

‘I drink champagne, as you’re asking,’ she told them, with a slow wink.

Keane shook his head and resignedly dug in his pockets.

‘That figures. Sure.’

He gestured at a waitress who came over and stood next to Sugar.

‘Champagne for the lady please,’ Keane asked, passing over a twenty.

The waitress looked at it and didn’t move, just stared back at him. Keane tutted and passed her another note, but she continued standing there.

‘Jesus,’ Keane murmured and passed one more.

The waitress smiled sweetly and walked off.

‘Sixty bucks for a bottle of champagne!’ Keane fumed shaking his head.

Sugar laughed delightedly.

‘Bottle! That’s for a glass you tight asshole!’

John decided to move it on so they could get out of there. He produced the photo and slid it across the table to Sugar who picked it up disinterestedly and then looked at him.

‘We need to find this guy. Rico,’ he told her.

She raised her eyebrows and looked at the photo again, then shrugged.

‘Yeah? Why?’

‘Because,’ growled Keane, pissed off about how it was going, and especially the champagne.

‘Look Sugar, we just really need to speak to him, that’s all,’ John cut in quickly.

‘You cops? What’s he done?’

‘No, I’m not a cop. I don’t know that he’s done anything,’ John told her truthfully.

Sugar’s champagne arrived in a frosted glass and she delicately took a sip, spilling some of it down her front.

‘Oh!’ she said, wiping her impressive chest, ‘I’m such a messy bitch. You would not believe how dirty I can get,’ she breathed at John, big eyes fixed on his.

Keane rolled his eyes and John spoke fast before he could say anything.

‘Sugar please, if you can help, it would be appreciated.’

‘OK. I like appreciated. How much?’

John looked at Keane, who was about to speak when one of the security men appeared out of nowhere and loomed above them.

‘It’s ok Gary, I’m fine,’ Sugar said, waving the man away.

The man looked closely at Keane and John and then moved on to another table.

‘There’s some cash in it. How much depends on what you can tell us,’ John let her know.

Sugar looked hard at him, and drank some more champagne. Then she tapped a long bright pink fingernail on the table and looked around the room again. John sat waiting patiently while Keane squirmed in his seat. Finally, she turned back to face him again.

‘Fine. Looking this good costs you know. Listen, I don’t really know him OK? Rico comes in here, and he always gets a dance, sometimes two. He’s sweet, he doesn’t maul me or nothing, keeps his hands to himself. He ain’t been in for a while though.’

‘Always on his own?’

‘Yeah, I think so. Actually, he was with another guy one time. Brown curly hair I think, I can’t remember, I didn’t do him.’

‘Did Rico talk much?’

‘Nah. Not really. Just he was working here for a while, and was bored. I think he was lonely.’

‘Did he say where he lives?’

‘Er, in the city for sure. He did say something … yeah, he said he was sharing an apartment. I remember now, he told me once it was real shitty. He said he couldn’t take no one back there. Not that I was gonna do that,’ she added hastily.

‘He never talked about anyone else, his family?’

‘No. Like I said, we didn’t really talk that much. He didn’t ask no one else for a dance, and he would just sit up at the bar. He seemed happy to be here, I guess it was good to get the fuck out of his apartment, right?’

‘Did it look like he had a lot of cash on him?’ Keane asked.

‘He always looked after me, I mean, like sure I could get more, but often a lot less. He was OK. I wouldn’t say he was rich.’

She was getting bored of the conversation, eyes constantly looking around, finding her next contributor.

John dug in his pocket, and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and then wrote his mobile number on a napkin and pushed them over to her. She immediately added the cash to the rest in her knickers and then looked at the number written down.

‘We going out later honey?’ she asked, smiling sweetly.

John smiled back.

‘No, sorry. But if he comes in, maybe you can call me, ok?’

She considered.

‘Ok.’

They stood up, and moved out. John bent down to Sugar as he passed.

‘Keep that number, ok? I’m John by the way. You may want to call it, I can help stop whoever’s doing that to your face,’ he told her.

She raised a hand to the bruise and stared at him.

‘I …’

‘Think about it, I can help,’ he interrupted, and they walked out the strip club.

‘Let’s get back to the hotel, get some sleep, tomorrow’s a new day, right?’ Keane said aggressively as they climbed in the car, still smarting about the damage to the contents of his wallet.

Chapter Eleven

General Morgan sat behind his desk, mouth open, looking up at Lieutenant Clay disbelievingly.

Clay returned the look impassively. Like the majority of staff in their section of the Pentagon he thought Morgan was an asshole, the man hadn’t been here that long considering, and had managed to pretty much piss everyone off. Even that morning he had been stalking around complaining to anyone who couldn’t get out of the way quick enough about his lacking a secretary. Like he really needed one anyway, she only made him coffee and passed over a whole bunch of bullshit memos anyway. He knew the history; Morgan was a relative, some in law or something of an assistant to the previous army chief of staff, who had retired a couple of years ago. Now, nobody seemed to know what to do with him so he had ended up here, which was their loss.

‘When did you find this out? I mean, how am I only being told this now?’ Morgan asked in a strangled voice.

‘Because sir,