Bones of the Barbary Coast by Daniel Hecht Read Free Book Online Page A

working on drinking a little and giving it time before taking some more. That, and spacing it with water.
    A regular health nut, Bert thought.
    He took the cardboard coaster from his water glass to use as an ashtray and set his cigarette pack and lighter next to his drink. All lined up and ready. He lit up and savored the first draw, one of the last percs still granted cops at the Tenderloin.
    Over at the bar, the bartender had put glasses down in front of a young couple, a guy of about thirty and a plump girl a little younger. The bartender leaned over and the three of them talked about a book they had open on the bar, laughing, paging through. Passing the time.
    Bert took a sip of water, then drew squiggles in the wet ring the glass had left on the table.
    Cree: She'd turned out better-looking than he'd expected. As a kid, she'd been homely, small and so sensitive or fragile-looking you worried you'd hurt her when you roughhoused, or if you said the wrong thing. Now she was a shade over medium height, and though she still had that sensitivity she had a gutsy quality, too, like she'd been through some hard stuff and knew she could survive it. She also had a good figure, though she didn't dress to make the most of it, nice reddish-brown hair, high cheekbones, eyes that probed but not in a judging way, just curious or maybe concerned. All in all, it amazed him that she hadn't remarried. Any guy with half a brain could see that she was a keeper. Somebody's soul mate.
    She had a habit of meeting your eyes and not looking away, and you got the sense she could see through bullshit. But there was another thing in her face, a slightly stricken look. Somewhere along the line, maybe when her husband had died, or maybe when she'd had her "paranormal" experience, life had given her the big scare, the big ouch. Everybody got it sooner or later. She could play tough, but she wasn't good at it. He figured her for one of those people who desperately wanted to believe human beings were at bottom good, and who was therefore continually being disappointed.
    He'd downed the rest of the whiskey when he wasn't noticing. Over at the bar, the new gal had her head together with the young couple, wasn't paying attention, so he hoisted himself up, carrying the glass with him, and bellied up to the rail.
    "Sorry," the bartender said. "Johnnie Black coming up." She spun to the shelves against the mirror, found the bottle. She filled to the shot-line and kept going right to the top. Bert lifted it carefully, kissed the rim, drank it down a bit.
    "What's the book?" he asked.
    "Names," the guy said. By way of explanation, the plump girl flashed the cover at Bert: Name Your Baby. A shy smile, and Bert put it together.
    "Congratulations," Bert said. He raised his glass to them, and they all clinked. The girl was wisely drinking soda water. Bert had brought his cigarette but now pinched it out, the secondhand smoke thing. "Boy or girl?"
    "We don't know yet. We're looking at both. So far we've made no progress at all. But we've still got three months."
    "Every name comes from somewhere and has meanings," the bartender explained. "You can't believe it. My name is Amy, so . . ." She looked expectantly at the young man, who obligingly paged through and found it.
    "Urn, 'Amy' . . . English, Old French. Means 'loved.''
    Bert glanced at the bartender. "So—would you say it's proved accurate?"
    She made a pursed-lipped, mind-your-own-business smile. "Off and on."
    Bert offered a little toast to that. The first one was coming on now and he felt more sociable.
    "Mine's Alexandra," the girl confided. "Means, let's see . . . English, from Alexander, means 'defender of men' or 'warding off men.' " She laughed, patting the top of her bulging stomach. "I sure haven't done a very good job of that, have I? The warding off part."
    "Lucky for me," her husband said. He nuzzled in her hair. Bert got the sense the kid was a little loaded.
    "Okay," the bartender said to Bert, "so