sup with the devil

Chapter 7

Rita opened the envelope and examined the contents as she propped the receiver on her shoulder.

"One of my better productions if I do say so." Vin beamed down the line. "What do you think?"

She did admire the work but it was wasted now and she scrunched her shoulders and aimed for an apologetic tone. "I'm really sorry, Vin."

"What! What's wrong? They're perfect!"

"I know. I know... but things have changed since yesterday. I'm going to have to start from scratch with another look. It really only means a new picture and some description chang—"

"Aw Jesus, that means all new. Everything has to be done over. Why the switch?"

She sighed into the mouthpiece. "I'm good for the money, Vin... please?"

He listened to her plea and swore softly. "Okay, when and where?"

"Here? Tomorrow?" He agreed. She smiled and oozed praise. "Thanks, Vin. You're a prince."

Vin agreed, chuckling with a sound that spelled out what it would cost Rita for his compliance. She replaced the receiver, chewing her top lip with tiny teeth.



Carl Dortman rinsed his mouth at the sink and looked past his shoulder in the mirror at the nude young man stretching on the huge bed. It was cheating, there was no doubt but what William didn't know wouldn't hurt him... too much. Carl enjoyed his situation with William but he still wanted—no, needed—to spread his wings among the flocks of beautiful young men whose paths he crossed. After all, who knew what William got up to at his club, and he was almost certain he did. He slipped on his shirt and went back to the bedroom, gathering the rest of his clothes and finishing dressing.

"Do you have to go?"

Carl smiled. "Yes. I have some business that I should have been doing instead of this."

"I'm flattered you chose to do me."

"I've left an envelope on the dresser, you have the room until noon. Don't be naughty."

"You've spoiled me."

"I'm not as susceptible to flattery as you, dear." Carl's smile turned a tad grim. "Until the next time then." He blew the young man a kiss and left the room, covering his eyes with a large pair of dark glasses.

His contacts, other young men that William knew nothing about, had come up with an address for Hatti Ambrose that had been leaked from the club where she worked and circulated among interested members of their community, a community that Roger frequented as well, and since it was a fair distance away, Carl decided to go there before contacting William. He wondered if William was having any success and secretly hoped that he would be the one to find Hatti and ingratiate himself doing it. He needed more reasons for William's loyalty.

He climbed into his Mazda Sports Coupe and slid smoothly into the traffic on the cross-town highway. Peggy Lee drummed out her rendition of Fever on the CD player and Carl turned the volume way up, singing along in the same voice as he sped through

traffic with an easy confidence.

******



2317 Montrose Avenue was a shabby looking shoe store with a small apartment over top. The window was dusty, partially covered by a faded awning and the half-hearted display behind the glass appeared faded as well from too long in the sun. Bettmeir pushed through the door and pulled a face as the chime rang out a few notes of Nancy Sinatra's only hit.