Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse …
Gianna’s car was a gorgeous, brand new Cadillac sedan, burgundy, with tinted windows. I hoped she’d kept up the insurance payments, because it was currently crunched sideways against the brick wall of the warehouse that butted up against Bushie’s back lot. My Barracuda had t-boned it, pinning it there, engine growling like a pissed-off Rottweiler. Gianna’s butler Robert stood on the roof of the sedan, hands in the pockets of his tailored slacks, staring down at my car with a slight frown. Two more of Gianna’s goons lay in the parking lot, unconscious and still smoldering.
“The fuck? What is all this?” The Eldest sauntered up next to me, surveying the scene, mouth quirked in an amused grin.
“Robert,” I called, by way of greeting. He was an older black man, mid-fifties or so, graying hair cut in a neat, tight cap, and dressed in a sharp black suit and tie. It was well-tailored, and showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Robert was what you call a well-put-together man, and I’d occasionally wished he wasn’t so deep in Gianna’s pockets.
“Ms. Frye.” He nodded a greeting at me, eyes narrowing just a bit as he saw Duane.
“What are you doing up there?” I crossed the lot, stepping over one of Gianna’s goons, and reached my car. I stroked the fender soothingly, and the growling engine subsided into a gentle rumble. Good car.
“I appear to be treed.” His mouth was set in a thin, displeased line as he considered his situation. “My Lord,” he added to Duane, sketching a slight bow. Duane was busy admiring my car, and he giggled in delight when it revved in annoyance when he peered under the carriage.
Next week, fireballs! Mayhem! More Knights! Gruesome creatures! Mysterious strangers! Don’t miss it! New to Black Alice? Start here.
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