John drummed his fingers on the table. “Least we caught him.”
God, not Butch and Sundance. “Who?” I tried to keep my voice flat and not give away the flutter in my chest.
“The man who killed his wife last night. Owner of a bit house on the west side. Said he was too drunk to know what he was doing. Said he thought it was an intruder.”
Reba shook her head. “Fool.”
A loud knock struck the front door. Happy for the diversion, I excused myself and hurried to answer. If Mayor Hicks stood behind it, I’d slam it in his smug face.
A far cry from my regulars, the scruffy young man peeled off his cowboy hat and used it to dust off his britches.
“May I help you?”
“Passin’ through, ma’am. Jus’ looking for a quick poke.”
“It’s early, son.” Although he appeared only a few years younger than me, calling him son reminded him who sat on top of the totem pole.
“Yes, ma’am. Won’t take too long.” If a man could salivate with his eyes, this cowboy was doing it.
Maybe he could get Sadie’s mind off Etta and put it back on what she was good at. Besides, a quick poke meant quick pay. He’d be out the door, a grin on his face and a skimpier pocket in our favor. I ran upstairs and received Sadie’s okay.
I held out my palm. “Five dollars for a chit, young man.”
“A token, darlin’. Our legal Tender ” I reached into my pocket and retrieved the metal coin that read Madam Fannie Porter’s Sporting House. Most often, clients bought more than one chit to exchange for booze. Each morning, the girls returned the tokens to me and received half their value in hard cash. “Hand it to Sadie. First door on the left.”
I traded him the chit for his five dollars and returned to the kitchen.
Excerpt from The Last Bordello
Daily post prompt: Tender