dog.”
Hard’s lips curl back, exposing his platinum teeth. “Man’s got a right shootin’ his own dogs.” He grins with a quick lick of his lips and glances over at the last pit bull standing. “I got one more slacker to pop off.”
“Target practice is finished. Hand over your gun.”
Hard kicks at the gravel with the tip of his alligator shoe. A puff of dust floats up. He shoots Luz a defiant stare.
Luz steps straight up to Hard. “I’m going to run a check on your gun to see the nasty places it’s been. Maybe it’s left a calling card in places where the sun no longer shines.”
Hard grips his Magnum harder. “I ain’t worried ’bout no checkin’. My hardware be clean. Better you get your head out of your ass. Get in touch with your half-nigga side. Let this whole thing slide.”
“It slides if you cop out on the Dandy Randy and Bill Warren murders.”
“Ah, colored girl, don’t be a shit-kicker. A shit-kicker sees a big ol’ pile of shit on the street and kicks it. Best you pass this Neptune Bay shit by. It could stick to your shoes—worse, stink up your life.”
“I’m kicking your shit. I’m taking you in for questioning on the two murders.”
“You crazy bitch. This black boy got nothin’ to do with offin’ white chumps. You should be sniffin’ in the direction of Big Conch’s white ass. Everybody knows Big’s the only Neptune partner left.”
“No. Maybe you partnered with Big to launder your dogfight winnings through Neptune Bay. Maybe you and Big didn’t want to share that with the other two partners. So, whiff, off go Dandy and Warren.”
A sweat breaks out across Hard’s forehead. “I ain’t scammin’ with Big. I be a respectable biz-niz man. That’s why I be wearin’ a suit in this scaldin’ sun. No other black boy as pro-fesh-shu-nal as I be.”
“Blood-money gambling on pit bulls tearing each other apart is not a profession, it’s a crime. You think you can dodge the law, moving your secret dogfights between Key West and Miami. Someday I’ll bust you on it, bust you to pieces.”
Hard turns and looks across the gravel at the whimpering pit bull roped to the anchor. Around the dog, the blood from the two sprawled dead animals has leaked out in a damp red circle. Hard raises his Magnum and points it at the whimpering pit bull. “You want that dog?”
“I don’t want a fighting dog.”
“That dog be no fighter, he be a lover. That’s why I poppin’ him. He’d rather lick his balls than fight. That’s why his name be Chicken. You want Chicken or not?”
Luz studies the pit bull squatting on its haunches in a pool of blood. The dog’s pink tongue dangles out as it whimpers; one of its ears is a gnarly stub, bitten off in afight. The hair of the dog’s short black coat is slashed with white scars left over from the vicious bites of past battles.
Hard chuckles. “Take Chicken home to that baldheaded daughter of yours. She could use a friend.”
“I’ll take the dog.”
“Deal.”
Hard walks across the gravel. He unties the pit bull from the two dead dogs and leads it back to Luz. The sun glints off of Hard’s smiling metallic mouthful of teeth. “Now you finally got a friend for your crippled daughter.”
Luz’s knee whips up in a powerful jackknife kick straight into Hard’s groin. Hard’s Magnum flies from his hand. He grabs his groin in an anguished wail, gaping at Luz with eyes wide in shock. She rips her pistol from its holster and smacks the gun’s gorilla-grip handle against the side of Hard’s head with a loud crack. Hard drops to the ground, his feet kicking out at the gravel in pain. Luz stands above Hard, who is writhing in the dust. She aims her pistol down at him.
“You mention my daughter again, I’ll kill you!”
A line of shrimping boats is anchored along a concrete pier jutting out into Key West Harbor. The boats’ tall masts and winged outriggers are decorated with strands of twinkling white lights. On the pier,
Hard’s lips curl back, exposing his platinum teeth. “Man’s got a right shootin’ his own dogs.” He grins with a quick lick of his lips and glances over at the last pit bull standing. “I got one more slacker to pop off.”
“Target practice is finished. Hand over your gun.”
Hard kicks at the gravel with the tip of his alligator shoe. A puff of dust floats up. He shoots Luz a defiant stare.
Luz steps straight up to Hard. “I’m going to run a check on your gun to see the nasty places it’s been. Maybe it’s left a calling card in places where the sun no longer shines.”
Hard grips his Magnum harder. “I ain’t worried ’bout no checkin’. My hardware be clean. Better you get your head out of your ass. Get in touch with your half-nigga side. Let this whole thing slide.”
“It slides if you cop out on the Dandy Randy and Bill Warren murders.”
“Ah, colored girl, don’t be a shit-kicker. A shit-kicker sees a big ol’ pile of shit on the street and kicks it. Best you pass this Neptune Bay shit by. It could stick to your shoes—worse, stink up your life.”
“I’m kicking your shit. I’m taking you in for questioning on the two murders.”
“You crazy bitch. This black boy got nothin’ to do with offin’ white chumps. You should be sniffin’ in the direction of Big Conch’s white ass. Everybody knows Big’s the only Neptune partner left.”
“No. Maybe you partnered with Big to launder your dogfight winnings through Neptune Bay. Maybe you and Big didn’t want to share that with the other two partners. So, whiff, off go Dandy and Warren.”
A sweat breaks out across Hard’s forehead. “I ain’t scammin’ with Big. I be a respectable biz-niz man. That’s why I be wearin’ a suit in this scaldin’ sun. No other black boy as pro-fesh-shu-nal as I be.”
“Blood-money gambling on pit bulls tearing each other apart is not a profession, it’s a crime. You think you can dodge the law, moving your secret dogfights between Key West and Miami. Someday I’ll bust you on it, bust you to pieces.”
Hard turns and looks across the gravel at the whimpering pit bull roped to the anchor. Around the dog, the blood from the two sprawled dead animals has leaked out in a damp red circle. Hard raises his Magnum and points it at the whimpering pit bull. “You want that dog?”
“I don’t want a fighting dog.”
“That dog be no fighter, he be a lover. That’s why I poppin’ him. He’d rather lick his balls than fight. That’s why his name be Chicken. You want Chicken or not?”
Luz studies the pit bull squatting on its haunches in a pool of blood. The dog’s pink tongue dangles out as it whimpers; one of its ears is a gnarly stub, bitten off in afight. The hair of the dog’s short black coat is slashed with white scars left over from the vicious bites of past battles.
Hard chuckles. “Take Chicken home to that baldheaded daughter of yours. She could use a friend.”
“I’ll take the dog.”
“Deal.”
Hard walks across the gravel. He unties the pit bull from the two dead dogs and leads it back to Luz. The sun glints off of Hard’s smiling metallic mouthful of teeth. “Now you finally got a friend for your crippled daughter.”
Luz’s knee whips up in a powerful jackknife kick straight into Hard’s groin. Hard’s Magnum flies from his hand. He grabs his groin in an anguished wail, gaping at Luz with eyes wide in shock. She rips her pistol from its holster and smacks the gun’s gorilla-grip handle against the side of Hard’s head with a loud crack. Hard drops to the ground, his feet kicking out at the gravel in pain. Luz stands above Hard, who is writhing in the dust. She aims her pistol down at him.
“You mention my daughter again, I’ll kill you!”
A line of shrimping boats is anchored along a concrete pier jutting out into Key West Harbor. The boats’ tall masts and winged outriggers are decorated with strands of twinkling white lights. On the pier,
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