Perfect Justice

18.

LOVING STEPPED THROUGH THE front door of the Bluebell Bar. He knew everyone in the joint was giving him the once-over, so he figured he might as well hold still and let them get it over with. Come to think of it, he could use the time to give them the once-over, too.

It was still early evening, but a crowd had already formed. Judging by the prefixes on the license plates outside, folks came from miles around to wet their whistles at the Bluebell. And judging by the accents he heard from the boys gathered around the pool table, some of them had come a lot farther than the neighboring counties. Those were the ones he wanted to chat with.

Loving grinned. He might not have a couple of college degrees like the Skipper, but he sure as hell knew his way around a bar.

He strolled casually to the pool table and laid a quarter on the bank just above the coin slot. “Mind if I play?”

The man holding the cue stick barely looked up. “Suit yourself.” He was broad-shouldered with blond curly hair—exactly as Ben had described Sonny Banner.

“You Banner?” Loving barked, just at the instant Banner decided to shoot. The tip of the cue shot up into the air; the cue ball rolled just enough to cost him his turn.

“Goddamn you!” Banner threw his cue down on the table. “Don’t you know better than to talk when a man is taking his shot?”

“Sorry, pal. You were going to scratch, anyway.” Loving cut him off before he exploded. “Does this mean you’re Banner?”

“Who wants to know?”

“Name’s Loving. I’d like to join ASP.”

Banner placed his hands on his hips. “You think we’d take some asswipe who can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when a man is takin’ his turn?”

Loving slapped him on the shoulder. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy the next round. What’re you drinking?”

Banner softened a bit. “Coors, of course. So are my buddies.”

“Right.” Loving motioned to the bartender. “Get me three Coors and a Michelob Light.”

“Michelob Light?” Banner guffawed. “Wassa matter, pretty boy? You on a diet?”

Loving took four bottles of beer and a bottle opener from the bartender. “Well, I could stand to lose a pound or two.”

“You know what I think?” Banner was right in Loving’s face. His breath indicated this was not his first beer of the evening. “I think you must be a sissy boy.”

Banner’s friends whooped and hollered. “Sissy boy,” they chanted with amusement. “Mama’s little sweetheart.”

“Do tell.” Loving nodded calmly. “You gonna open your beer with the bottle opener or your teeth?”

Banner’s eyebrows moved closer together. “Are you crazy? You can’t open a beer bottle with your teeth. You’ll kill yourself.”

With a patently bored expression, Loving placed the top of the bottle in his mouth. He clamped his teeth down on the cap, made a great show of grunting and groaning, then jerked his head back. The bottle cap popped off.

Loving held the cap between his teeth, then poked it out with his tongue. “Piece of cake.”

Banner’s face was transfixed with admiration. “Wuh—what’d ya want to talk to us about?”

“Let’s just say I’m an upstandin’ citizen who doesn’t always like what he sees happenin’ in this country, and I’d like to talk to you boys about joining ASP. Even if some of the members do appear to be sissies.”

Banner glanced at his two friends. “Takes a month to get in. We have to quiz you first. Make sure you’re not some Viet-cong sympathizer tryin’ to infiltrate us.”

“Can you quiz me while we shoot pool?”

Banner shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“Good. Rack ’em up.”

Loving suppressed a grin as he watched Banner round up the balls. They wouldn’t tell him anything at first, natch. It would take a while. But he was definitely off to a good start.

It was amazing what you could accomplish with a good barroom stunt. Since these boys made it clear they never drank Michelob Light, they didn’t realize it came in a bottle with a twist-off cap. And they didn’t see him untwist the cap most of the way off before he put it in his mouth.