Who in Hell Is Wanda Fuca? by G. M. Ford Read Free Book Online Page A

back.
    "Bullshit," he said with a smile. "You get three. I
checked."
    Before I could protest he stopped me. "I'll go the four hundred."
    He leaned back one again and closed his eyes. "You need anything, you
call Frankie," he sighed. He was snoring softly before I could work up a
clever refusal.
    Frankie Ortega walked me all the way to my car. I was freezing, shivering
almost uncontrollably inside my topcoat. Frankie didn't notice. He was deep in
thought. As I unlocked the car door, he put his hand on my arm. "Take care
of this for him, huh, Leo? She's family. He's an old man."
    I said I'd try. He handed me an envelope. I opened the door.
    Frankie held the door as I got in. "Watch out for this kid, Leo. She's
scary," Now he had my attention.
    Anything that would scare Frankie Ortega automatically put the fear of God
in me. I started sweating again.
    "Why's that, Frankie?"
    "Something's loose in that kid," he said.
    "Oh," I deadpanned.
    "Tim, he wouldn't say so. He's too proud, her being family and all, but
this one's definitely trouble, Leo. Nineteen, going on fifty. A wild child.
Never seen anything quite like it, Leo. This one's a cross between little Miss
Muffet and Debbie Does Dallas. One minute she's stomping her feet, acting like
a baby; next minute she's offering to sit on your face."
    He stopped and cast his eyes furtively up and down the street, as if the old
man's tentacles reached everywhere. Satisfied, he continued.
    "We couldn't keep regular help. You remember Tim never much liked women
around since the wife died. We always had male help. You remember from when
your dad used to bring you here." I remembered. "I had to let them
all go. If she couldn't get what she wanted out of them one way, she'd get it
another. We had guys threatening to shoot one another over her, for Chrissake.
She'd fuck a snake if somebody'd hold the head still.
    "How'd you make out, Frankie?" I asked. He wasn't amused.
    "Don't fuck around," he said gravely. "Before this is over,
you may need some help with this one, Leo. You need anything, you can call.
I'll send you the twins, okay?" I said it was okay. I lied. Frankie was
still musing about the dangerous Caroline Nobel. Almost sounded like
professional jealousy.
    "She's a pretty package, all right. No doubt about it. There's a
picture in the envelope. You'll see." He still held the door. "You
been around, Leo. You know the score. You spend any time with her, you'll see
what I mean. She plays men like some broads play the piano."
    He leaned down and got close to my face. "You know, Leo, years ago I
learned to look in people's eyes. I needed to know right away whether they was
reaching for their wallet or they was reaching for a gun. This one, I don't see
nothin'. Before you leap - take a good look in her eyes. It'll shrivel your
dick up like a roll of dimes." He slammed the door.
Chapter 5
    "Any of you still have a driver's license?" I asked.
    The question brought on another round of head shaking, foot shuffling, and
staring at my living room floor. Buddy, as was his custom, took the lead.
    "You might as well ask a fish if he still has his bicycle," Buddy
muttered under his breath.
    "Okay. Okay," I said. "For the time being, we'll take the
bus."
    While Buddy was generally in charge of the bitching for this group, this
particular suggestion even brought complaints from Harold, Ralph, and George.
"How in hell can we be real operatives from the bus?" said George,
jamming his hands into the pockets of his buttonless tweed overcoat.
    "Yeah, Leo, it just ain't right," whined Harold.
    "What if we have to follow somebody or something?" asked Ralph.
    "If you have to follow anyone, which I doubt," I added, "take
a cab. It's expenses. I'll give it back to you later."
    "Won't work," said Buddy.
    "Why not?"
    "Most of the cabbies won't pick us up."
    Buddy had a point. I'd forgotten that once a guy was officially enshrined in
the local Degenerate Hall of Fame, public transport was no longer a