Midnight Rambler by James Swain Read Free Book Online

girl Simon Skell went down for. The police arrested a pimp they think put it there.”
    It took Melinda a moment to process what I'd said. Panic distorted her face.
    “What's going to happen to Skell?” she asked. “They're not going to let him out of prison, are they?”
    “They might.”
    “But you said he killed Carmella and all those other girls.”
    “That's right.”
    “Then how can they let him out?”
    “The evidence doesn't support the police's case anymore.”
    “Don't talk to me like that,” she snapped.
    “Like what?”
    “Like a fucking automated answering machine. I hate that.”
    “I'm sorry.”
    Melinda put her hand on my leg and sank her dragon-lady nails into my skin. I'd forgotten who I was talking to. This was the girl who stopped being a victim long enough to put her abuser behind bars. There weren't many like her, and I'd just told her that it was all for nothing.
    “
How
can they let him out, Jack?” she spat at me. “Didn't the judge hear what I said on the witness stand? How Skell tortured me? How he wouldn't feed me or give me water? How he made me piss into a Dixie cup? How he told me about the girls he'd tortured, and how I was going to join their little club? How he made me bark like a dog while he played that fucking song? Didn't the judge hear any of that, Jack?”
    I fell mute. The sad truth is, it was not Melinda's trial. It was Carmella's trial, and although Melinda's testimony had helped send Skell to prison, it was not the crime he had been tried for. Which was a nice way of saying that Skell would never be punished for the crimes he'd committed against Melinda. Only I couldn't tell her that.
    “It's not a done deal,” I said instead.
    “Meaning what?”
    “Meaning that it's not certain Skell will be released from prison. His lawyer will have to go in front of a judge and present the evidence.”
    Her nails sunk deeper into my flesh.
    “They're going to let him out, aren't they, Jack?” she said. “That's why you came here. They're going to let him out, and you wanted me to know so I could put extra locks on my apartment and buy a gun for when he comes tippy-toeing to my bedroom door.”
    I lowered my head. She'd hit the nail on the head. It was exactly why I'd come.
    “I'm sorry, Melinda,” I said.
    She slapped my face. It stung, and I reflexively grabbed her arm before she could do it again. She let out a bloodcurdling scream.
    A huge bouncer stepped into the lounge. He yanked me off the couch and hustled me through the club. I looked for Cheever at the bar, but he was gone.
    As we went through the club's front door I expected the bouncer to stop, but he instead gave me a mighty shove. I flew forward with my arms flapping like a bird and hit the pavement hard.
    “Stay out of here,” the bouncer yelled.
    I lay on the pavement and watched the rain come down in sheets. The knees of my pants were shredded, my jacket torn. I tried to find the bright side, only there was no bright side. I walked stiff-legged to my car.
    As I got in, Buster cowered fearfully against the passenger door. Then the rancid smell hit me. My dog had puked Slim Jims on the floor.
    “It's okay, boy,” I told him. “It's okay.”
    The words seemed to reassure him, and Buster slithered into my lap. He stayed there all the way back to the Sunset.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T he storm skirted south of Dania, and I reached the Sunset in blinding sunshine. I washed the floor mat in the ocean and placed it on the hood to dry. A few hours of daylight were left, and I went inside to change.
    In my room I tugged on my Speedo bathing trunks. I'd lost twenty pounds in the past six months and acquired a flat stomach and deep tan. Although my hair has thinned, my friends said I looked younger than my forty years. Maybe I had found the fountain of youth. It was called hitting the skids.
    I rolled my wet clothes into a ball and headed downstairs. At the bar, one of the Seven Dwarfs, Whitey, was doing a magic trick with