down some wisdom on you before I leave. If you go talk to that trailer trash Evan Hastings about Alexis, be careful. He's a thoroughly disagreeable man."
"Hey, I trained with Department of Corrections, Lafaye. I tangled with the fellas in those Krav Maga classes they made us take. I can execute a pretty effective throat strike and eye gouge. I know how to knee someone in the nuts."
"I get it. You're a badass. I'm just saying. He's bad, for real bad. And he knows people who are even worse."
"You went up against him."
"Yeah, but I'm a bitch in heels."
I smiled. "I own heels, too."
"Sure, Bennett," Lafaye said. "Just don't be alone with him."
CHAPTER SIX
The criminal justice system never moves quickly unless it's to do something that's a complete pain in the ass. I had a new parole officer within twenty-four hours.
PO Belton was younger than I thought he'd be. He wasn't more than thirty or so, and his baby face made him appear even younger than that. He had blond hair that he wore a little too long, probably to try to obscure his high, wide forehead. As he leaned back in his desk chair looking me over, his cold gray eyes never blinked.
"So you killed poor Jimmy Romandetto."
I was nervous, but I didn't show it. I just said, "Heart attack was what the cops said."
"Yeah, but why'd his ticker give out? Poor son of bitch was only fifty-two."
"He was smoker," I said. "And he didn't exactly have that 'balanced diet' look to me."
"Yeah, it's a bitch," Belton said lacing his fingers together. "Everything that makes life worth living is bad for you. That's God's little joke on the human race."
"I guess."
"Well, so much for Romandetto. Now you're mine."
"Lucky me."
His pretty lips pouted. "Aw, I'm a sweet guy. A hell of a lot nicer than ole Jimmy ever was, that's for sure. He was checking up on you when he shuffled off the mortal coil, wasn't he?"
"Yeah."
"See, with me you don't gotta have that. I trust you."
"That's nice."
"Exactly. I'm as nice a guy as you're ever going to want to meet. I know how it is for a con like you. You get out of the joint and everyone treats you like shit. I don't believe in that. Forgive and forget, that's what my mother taught me."
"She sounds like a wonderful woman."
He smiled. "You're funny, Bennett. I like a gal with a sense of humor. I do. Nothing funnier than a female with a quick wit."
"Thanks."
"A man can't live on yucks alone, though."
I sat up straight in his uncomfortable guest chair. We'd arrived at the real point of this meeting. A lot of broads had sat in that same hardback wooden chair, stared across the desk at this asshole, and waited to find out what price he was going to name.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay what?"
"How much?"
"How much what?"
"How much do you want?"
He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk and contorted that baby face into an expression of friendly confusion. "How much what, sweetheart?"
"Money. I know you want some."
He spread his palms out. "I
have
money. More than you, anyway. Why would I need money? I got a good job as a servant of the public."
"Okay."
"But now we have a problem we didn't have when you walked through the door. Attempting to bribe a parole officer … that's not good."
"I wasn't—"
"You just offered me money under the table for some as of yet to be determined preferential treatment, sweetie. You realize that I could pick up the phone right now and have you back in jail?"
I didn't say shit.
"You do realize that. Good." He stood up. Tall and thin, he swept around the desk in one quick movement and perched on the corner and stared down at me. "This is a bad start for you, sweetie. Very bad. Poor Jimmy Romandetto is dead and gone to Jesus and here you are trying to bribe your new parole officer. That's a goddamn bad start to your new life on the outside. People are watching you now. Disgraced correctional officer. Adulterer—least that's the talk around town about you. And now here you are offering monetary
"Hey, I trained with Department of Corrections, Lafaye. I tangled with the fellas in those Krav Maga classes they made us take. I can execute a pretty effective throat strike and eye gouge. I know how to knee someone in the nuts."
"I get it. You're a badass. I'm just saying. He's bad, for real bad. And he knows people who are even worse."
"You went up against him."
"Yeah, but I'm a bitch in heels."
I smiled. "I own heels, too."
"Sure, Bennett," Lafaye said. "Just don't be alone with him."
CHAPTER SIX
The criminal justice system never moves quickly unless it's to do something that's a complete pain in the ass. I had a new parole officer within twenty-four hours.
PO Belton was younger than I thought he'd be. He wasn't more than thirty or so, and his baby face made him appear even younger than that. He had blond hair that he wore a little too long, probably to try to obscure his high, wide forehead. As he leaned back in his desk chair looking me over, his cold gray eyes never blinked.
"So you killed poor Jimmy Romandetto."
I was nervous, but I didn't show it. I just said, "Heart attack was what the cops said."
"Yeah, but why'd his ticker give out? Poor son of bitch was only fifty-two."
"He was smoker," I said. "And he didn't exactly have that 'balanced diet' look to me."
"Yeah, it's a bitch," Belton said lacing his fingers together. "Everything that makes life worth living is bad for you. That's God's little joke on the human race."
"I guess."
"Well, so much for Romandetto. Now you're mine."
"Lucky me."
His pretty lips pouted. "Aw, I'm a sweet guy. A hell of a lot nicer than ole Jimmy ever was, that's for sure. He was checking up on you when he shuffled off the mortal coil, wasn't he?"
"Yeah."
"See, with me you don't gotta have that. I trust you."
"That's nice."
"Exactly. I'm as nice a guy as you're ever going to want to meet. I know how it is for a con like you. You get out of the joint and everyone treats you like shit. I don't believe in that. Forgive and forget, that's what my mother taught me."
"She sounds like a wonderful woman."
He smiled. "You're funny, Bennett. I like a gal with a sense of humor. I do. Nothing funnier than a female with a quick wit."
"Thanks."
"A man can't live on yucks alone, though."
I sat up straight in his uncomfortable guest chair. We'd arrived at the real point of this meeting. A lot of broads had sat in that same hardback wooden chair, stared across the desk at this asshole, and waited to find out what price he was going to name.
"Okay," I said.
"Okay what?"
"How much?"
"How much what?"
"How much do you want?"
He leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk and contorted that baby face into an expression of friendly confusion. "How much what, sweetheart?"
"Money. I know you want some."
He spread his palms out. "I
have
money. More than you, anyway. Why would I need money? I got a good job as a servant of the public."
"Okay."
"But now we have a problem we didn't have when you walked through the door. Attempting to bribe a parole officer … that's not good."
"I wasn't—"
"You just offered me money under the table for some as of yet to be determined preferential treatment, sweetie. You realize that I could pick up the phone right now and have you back in jail?"
I didn't say shit.
"You do realize that. Good." He stood up. Tall and thin, he swept around the desk in one quick movement and perched on the corner and stared down at me. "This is a bad start for you, sweetie. Very bad. Poor Jimmy Romandetto is dead and gone to Jesus and here you are trying to bribe your new parole officer. That's a goddamn bad start to your new life on the outside. People are watching you now. Disgraced correctional officer. Adulterer—least that's the talk around town about you. And now here you are offering monetary
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