“Whatever. Looks like white baby shit.” I shudder and spear my eggs with a fork.
“What the fuck? You know I can’t hear about gross shit when I’m eating.”
“I wouldn’t call that eating. More like prison food.” I’d rather cut off my left nut than ever eat oatmeal again in my life. Fed me that shit nearly every morning in juvie. Was like eating paste. I grab the salt and pepper, giving both a good shake over my plate.
“Gonna eat yourself into an early grave all that damn salt.”
“You my momma now?”
Before he can reply, his cell rings. “Yo. Talk to me.” He pauses then grins. “Fuck yeah.” He bangs a fist down on the table. “Yeah. No shit. Good. Hell yeah. I’ll be there.” He ends the call still grinning like a loon.
Our waitress tops off our coffees showing more cleavage than she was when we first sat down in her section. “Thanks, darlin’. ‘Preciate it.”
“You boys need anything else, give me a shout.” She licks her red lips.
I glance at her name tag. “Will do, Shelby.”
She saunters off, swaying her hips.
“You good to go stalk Hazel while I meet up with Hallow?” Short for How Low Can You Go. He patched over from our club to Nashville.
“Yeah. I got this. When you riding out?”
“After this pick up. Unless you need me to hold your hand.”
“Get the fuck outta here.”
Viking downs his coffee and folds out the booth. “Anything comes up give me a shout.”
“Let Prez know I’ll be back in time for the wedding. I’m not returning without her.”
He lifts his chin and is gone. He’s not supposed to be here anyway. Prez needs him back in West Virginia. Was hoping to be on my way back with Hazel by now myself. I finish up, pay the tab, drop some cash on the table for a tip, and ride out. First address is an apartment complex near Percy Priest Lake. Doesn’t escape me that it’s also close to the airport. Fuck me. She better not of gotten her ass on a plane. I park a building over not wanting the sound of my bike to spook her. The outside of her building is clean. Decent. Neatly trimmed bushes. Most the doors have a welcome mat and a potted plant. A flag. Something to personalize the entryway, except Hazel’s if this is still her place. Would be a hell of a lot easier to track her if she had credit cards, but Slick couldn’t even find any bank records. She lives off radar. Probably due to the fucking life of crime she is leading. Making it hard for the men she takes advantage of to track her sassy ass down for retribution.
All the blinds are shut, not giving me much to go on. I check the mailboxes for names but nada. Only apartment numbers assigned.
Around the backside some kids are hanging around the picnic tables.
The blinds are pulled on the black sliding glass door but not completely.
I approach the kids. “You want to earn twenty bucks?”
“Depends.” The tallest boy of the group stands puffing his chest out.
“You know the chick that lives in the end apartment?”
“Nobody lives there, man. She moved out about two weeks ago.”
“You remember what kind of car she drives?”
“Why you asking so many questions about Hazel?”
Bingo. She lived here. Can always count on kids to give up information without realizing they are selling your ass out. “You want the twenty dollars or not, my man?”
“Make it fifty.” He folds his arms over his chest and flares his nostrils.
I bite back my chuckle. “Alright. You tell me what kind of car she drives and where I might find her, and I’ll give you fifty.”
“Deal.” He holds his palm out expectantly.