She worked hard for the money

We sat in silence, the car engine idling. “Where did it go? How can a truck just disappear?”

“It was a dark color Jack. All they had to do was pull off the road and switch off the lights and it would just blend into the night. What shall we do?”

“Drive slowly back up the dirt road as far as my house, maybe its prostitute_in_newyorkone of the driveways.”

I did as Jack told me, but worried what we’d do if we actually found it. “If we see the truck what do we do? We don’t know who’s driving it. I’m guessing we’d be no match if it came down to a fight.”  I needn’t have worried. The truck was gone. I pulled up on Jack’s drive way again, thinking we’d maybe wait in his house, hoping she’s find her way back.

“Lets go to the Stagecoach! She’s expecting us to be there.” Jack said.

“Great idea. All of those big burly bikers! They’ll look out for us.”

Jack laughed. “I think the big burly bikers are only weekend visitors. On a week night its full of locals who stop for a drink and a bite to eat on their way home from work.” He was right of course, but at least we’d have witnesses if anything did happen.

There weren’t many cars outside the Saloon when we arrived, but there were a few. Jack and I found a seat at the bar.

“Want anything to eat?” Jack asked.

I shook my head, food was the last thing on my mind.

Bonnie appeared from the kitchen. “Hi, I was thinking of you. Someone was in here earlier asking about a young girl. They showed me a photo. It looked like that girl we saw the other night. The one who lost the pendant. Have you seen anymore of her.”

Jack and I froze!

“Who was looking for her?” Jack asked.

Bonnie looked from me to him. “It was a guy. Maybe in his forties, rough looking. Big! Had a young girl with him, probably late teens. She was bruised up, swollen lip.”

“How long ago?” I asked.

She looked at the clock behind the bar. “Maybe an hour, maybe a little more.”

“Damn!” Jack put his head in his hands.

“Whats the deal” Bonnie asked.

“Long story, but I think the young girl is homeless. We don’t know her story yet. She was living in the old barn. Have you seen this guy before? Would you recognize…..” I didn’t finish my sentence.

“I’ve seen him before!”

I looked around. It was one of the old guys I’d seen many times in the Stagecoach. “He hangs out at a bar on Colfax. Sleazy place. I play poker there every once in a while. Rough place.”

We all looked at him. “Whats the guy do there?”

“Not sure you want to know.”

Jack and I looked at each other. “What now?” I said.

“Could you show us where this place is?” Jack asked.

“I could take you there, but I don’t think you should go alone.”

“Hey guys, think about this.” Bonnie said. “Doesn’t sound like a good place to be.”

“We have to help her. We can’t just turn our backs on her now.”

“Lets call the police!” I said.

“And tell them what? What can we say? We met a stranger, tried to help her and now she’s gone. I don’t think they’ll do anything.”

I said nothing. He ordered a shot of whiskey. I sipped a glass of wine.

The old guy sitting at the bar spoke again. “Do either of you play poker?”

“I do.” Jack said.

“OK, I’ll try to get a game down there tomorrow night. You need to keep your mouth shut though. It’s a rough place. I want to leave by the front door, not feet first in a fucking coffin!”

 

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