Kiss Me Hard by Thomas B. Dewey

Author:Thomas B. Dewey [Dewey, Thomas B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, noir, murder, gangster, mystery
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2020-09-29T11:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

In the morning we walked back into Hannibal and had breakfast in a little café near the edge of town. Connie was drawn and tired-looking, but after she’d had a chance to clean up and a good meal, she rallied and was cheerful—more cheerful than she had been since I’d met her.

We found we could get a Greyhound bus to Kansas City that would get us there early in the evening. The bus trip was long and hot, but we slept off and on, and by the time we pulled into Kansas City, after dark, it had cooled off. I remembered a low-priced hotel downtown from my touring days with the band, and we went in there and got a room with twin beds. I bought a couple of newspapers and we went up to the room. Connie went to bed and I opened the papers to the classified sections and studied them until I found what I wanted.

The ad read: “Los Angeles. Share expenses. Three pass.” There was a phone number to call. It was a commercial deal really and I knew it. You paid a flat fee and the driver took a carful of people to Los Angeles. It was illegal, but it was cheaper than train or bus and there wouldn’t be any wasted time. There wouldn’t be any overnight stops.

I called the number in the ad and whoever answered said he had room for two more and would pick us up at the hotel in the morning around ten. The “expenses” would come to twenty-five dollars apiece. I said we’d be ready.

I counted the money I had left. We’d have about forty-five bucks after paying for the ride. If we were careful, we could get along for a couple days in L.A. while Connie got established and I looked for a job.

When I went to bed I had a good, strong feeling. I still had some whisky in the bottle I’d bought in Hannibal, but I forgot to take a drink from it. I hit the bed and went to sleep.

The next morning we stood in the hot sun in front of the hotel, waiting for the car to pick us up. It was half an hour late. It was a medium-heavy car, in good shape, and I thought the long ride wouldn’t be too rugged.

The other passengers were all right. There was a middle-aged lady with gray hair who sat in front most of the way, and a Marine sergeant returning to San Diego from a furlough. The driver was an expert, the conversation was casual and not too steady, and by the time we got onto the sun-baked Kansas plains everybody was well shaken down and Connie and I settled in to the long ride.

Because it was long. Long and hot and nerve-shattering. The driver gave out somewhere in New Mexico and the sergeant spelled him until he went to sleep. I took a turn at it, but I went to sleep three times and nearly ran us into a truck, so the driver took over again.

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