to toy with. Alas, not tonight. Tonight I had smaller fish to fry.
“You still playing drums in that band?”
“You know me, music is in my blood.” Ralph smiled like it was a joke, but, in truth, he had the soul of songwriter and a soft, smooth tenor that could make the ladies weep. And, knowing Ralph, he always had his fingers on the pulse of the local beat.
“So what’s the deal with this scavenger hunt and a recording contract?”
His face snapped into a frown. “Bunch of idiots chasing all over town. Lookin’ for music artifacts, they say. Man, I heard a couple got busted trying to take a booth out of the Golden Steer on account Sinatra put his fancy ass in it at some point.”
“And I just took a big sparkler off Johnny Pismo. He swore it had belonged to Liberace.”
Ralph whistled. “The King of Kitsch. Ring’s probably fake.”
“Not everything about him was smoke and mirrors.”
“Nope. Personally, I loved the guy.”
“Anything else you can tell me about this scavenger hunt thing? I don’t understand why Dig Me O’Dell would get involved in something like that. It’s just asking to be a big splash of the wrong kind.”
“You can’t fix stupid,” Renny said.
I gave him a look. It wasn’t clear exactly who he thought was stupid and I didn’t feel like asking, so I nodded. “Right you are.”
“There’s some weird shit going down, though,” Ralph added as he churned through what I’d told him.
“Could you narrow that down a bit for me? It’s late.”
“It’s nuthin’ I know for sure.” He unhooked the rope and waved another gaggle of stick-thin prepubescents into the club. “But, you know, they got music memorabilia stashed in odd places all over town. I love that shit. But folks who have it don’t pay it the proper reverence, know what I mean? They treat it pretty casual.”
I didn’t. To me old shit was old shit, but I was smart enough to play along. “Totally.”
“Well, that stuff is low-hanging fruit to the properly motivated sticky fingered.”
“So Dig Me O’Dell offered the golden egg to a bunch of no-talent wannabes willing to overlook the whole legal thing. He’s actually gonna sign one of them. At least according to my source. What I don’t get is what’s in it for O’Dell? Sweet Sound Downtown Records is one of the big players.” The whole thing sounded far-fetched to me.
Ralph seemed to have suspended disbelief. “Well, desperate times call for desperate measures and all that shit. Digital downloading took a chunk of green away from those guys, and Sweet Sound hasn’t had a winner in a long time.”
“Man, a lack of money hits a guy where it hurts. Right in the ego.”
Ralph nodded. “Follow the money, you’ll find your answers.”
I thought for a moment. “I’m a journalist with my finger on the pulse of the happenings here in Sin City. If Dig Me O’Dell wanted to make a big splash with this scavenger hunt thing, don’t you think it’s odd I didn’t know about it?”
Ralph’s face sobered.
“How’d you find out about it?” I asked him.
“Somebody floated it on the grapevine.”
“Who?”
“That no-talent dude with the seriously bad wardrobe.” Ralph thought for a moment then shook his head. “Can’t remember his name.”
“And therein lies his problem. Unremarkable and forgotten. The name Johnny Pismo, ring a bell?”
His face lit with recognition. “That’s the dude.”
Now I knew Pismo was lying. The question was why.
CHAPTER FOUR
L UCKY
Teddie peeled himself off the wall as I stepped off the elevator and into my living room. A gal just couldn’t catch a break.
“How’d you get up here? You need to know the secret handshake and have the secret code.”
He flashed me his patented dimpled grin. That, along with his tight ass, bright baby blues, and a voice as smooth as
Learning to Kill: Stories