Kathy Hogan Trocheck - Truman Kicklighter 01 - Lickety-Split by Kathy Hogan Trocheck Read Free Book Online

earnings.
    “The kid’s got a system,” Michael told Nunz. “Something that’s a sure thing. What I need from you, Nunz, is some working capital for tonight, when I try the thing out.”
    There was silence at the other end of the line.
    “How much?”
    “I’m thinking ten.”
    Now there was button-punching, the sound of an adding machine on the other end of the phone.
    “What kind of terms we talkin’?”
    Michael was stunned. He’d been sure Nunz would give him the money just on a handshake. That was the way they’d done business before. Handshake. Man to man.
    “Nunz,” he said, “I thought we’d go partners. You know. I get the system, you provide the up-front money, we split fifty-fifty.”
    “You thought,” Nunz said. “We never discussed. Pick me up on the way to the track. I wanna meet this kid. See what the system is.”
    “Sure,” Michael said. “We’ll have dinner. Drinks. You’ll see.”
    He hung up the phone and swore loudly.
    “Shitfuckdamnhellpiss!” This was not how he’d planned the evening. The original plan went: Shake the kid down. Take the computer thing away from him. Lay down the bets. Then dinner, a nice rib-eye and caesar salad in the clubhouse. Maybe call Cookie from the track. He was sure he could find a way to get her to meet him. Winning made him horny as hell.
    All that was off now. He’d have to get the program away from Wade but at the same time keep him away from Nunz.
    “Shit,” he said, this time with feeling.

Chapter FIVE
     
    She made herself small, nearly invisible, eyes cast down, arms held close to her body. It was a trick she’d learned in grade school so that the teachers wouldn’t call on her and the bigger kids would leave her alone.
    People got on and off the bus, laughed, talked, complained. If the driver noticed that she’d been riding for two hours, he said nothing. Finally, when the bus got to Williams Park, the central departure for every bus in the city system, she reluctantly got off. She had a plan now.
    There was a pay phone on the corner, across the street from the old Maas Brothers department store. Rosie dialed James’s number. It rang and rang.
    She hung up, dialed her girlfriend’s number. She had only a couple of real friends. But the answering machine picked up. Rosie looked at her watch. It was after four. Her friend Marion was probably on her way to work. Okay, she’d see her there.
    The warm bundle around her middle shifted, and she heard a plaintive mewing. She looked down, saw the kitten’s tiny pink nose poking out of the opening. She unzipped the zipper a little and stroked the kitten’s head. “Poor Punkin.” No way she could take the kitten to the track. Wade and those men would be looking for her, for sure. She sat down on one of the green benches. The fading afternoon sunlight still felt good and warm.
    She got out the schedule she’d picked up and scanned it, looking for the bus that would take her to the track. There was a soft flapping noise and she looked up, startled.
    Dozens and dozens of pigeons fluttered to the walkway in front of her. Parked in their midst was one of those adult tricycles, ridden by an old woman wearing a white sunbonnet, pedal-pusher slacks, and sunglasses with a white noseguard. The tricycle had a pair of wire baskets mounted behind the seat. In one basket sat a bored-looking dachshund, in the other there was a large bag of breadcrumbs, which the woman was dipping her hand into, throwing the crumbs to the flock of pigeons circling the bike.
    Rosie sat up and watched. The old woman clucked and cooed to the birds. The kitten stirred again. She looked down at it, then got up and walked over to the woman.
    The woman cringed and stopped throwing the crumbs as Rosie drew near. “I’m not hurtin’ nobody,” she said in a frail, high-pitched voice.
    “I like the birds too,” Rosie said. “And cats. You like cats?”
    The woman nodded. “Buster and me love all God’s animals.”
    Rosie