Home > Chance of a Lifetime(9)

Chance of a Lifetime(9)
Author: Jude Deveraux

   “He said he was going to The Lusty Lady to talk to his ex-wife,” Billy said. “Something about her owing him money.”

   Bingo. The Lusty Lady was a gentleman’s club several blocks away near the old warehouse district. Every city had its shady side, and The Lusty Lady was smack-dab in the center of it. Cora knew Nero was as slippery as an electric eel, and just as dangerous. He seemed to have a sort of sixth sense when it came to cops, so he’d probably be long gone before she even showed up. But with any luck, she could talk to his ex and maybe get some useful information. While it crossed her mind that she wasn’t on the clock, she didn’t see anything wrong with driving by The Lusty Lady, just to check things out. Hey, she was in the neighborhood, after all. And people could do whatever they wanted on their days off. Some people liked to go shopping or see a movie. Today, she just happened to feel like heading down a dark alley past stinking dumpsters to a shady strip club with questionable, sticky floors. Yep.

   Cora gave Billy a brilliant smile, snagged the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it on the pavement.

   “Hey!” Billy looked mournfully at the ground. “That was my last one.”

   “Good. You’re not supposed to be smoking, anyway. Here.” Cora opened her tote and pulled out a take-out bag from Munchies Diner. She’d just bought lunch, but Billy probably needed it more. “Crispy chicken with all the fixings. Plus curly fries.” She handed it to him.

   His face lit up, but then smoothed out like he was trying to play it cool. “I’d rather have my cigarette.”

   She raised a delicate brow. “Just be glad I don’t slap a fine on you for underage smoking.”

   He gave her a wounded look. “You wouldn’t.”

   “Oh, I so totally would.” She grinned and jerked a thumb at her chest. “Police, remember?”

   “After all we’ve been through? I thought we had a thing going, you and me.” Billy’s dejected expression morphed into eagerness as he yanked the warm sandwich out of the bag.

   “We do,” Cora said, turning toward her Mini Cooper parked along the sidewalk. “We’ve got that thing next Tuesday afternoon, remember?”

   “I wasn’t talking about no internship at the Teens in Action club,” Billy called over a mouthful of sandwich.

   “I was.” Cora gave him a cheery wave as she got into her car. Billy could make a great mentor for younger kids like him. It would give him a sense of confidence and purpose to help out; he just didn’t know it yet. All he needed was a bit of a push in the right direction. Luckily, Cora had a connection at the teen center, so she’d set him up for an interview. Teens in Action was mostly run by adult volunteers, but they could always use kids to help with the daily after-school activities. So far, she hadn’t had much luck getting Billy involved, but she wasn’t going to give up.

   Her stomach growled and she lifted her lukewarm coffee from the cup holder, took a sip and grimaced. Sighing in resignation, she took another sip as she pulled onto the main road. It wouldn’t be the first time she dined on nothing but caffeinated sludge. As a police officer, it was practically a rite of passage. How many times had she watched her father wolf down bowls of cereal at the end of a long day because he’d neglected to eat on the job? Cereal for dinner was a standard operating procedure in her house growing up, at least until Cora was old enough to cook. Since her mother had died when she was little, it was always just her and her dad, which meant lots of pancakes and Pop-Tarts for dinner. Even now that he lived a few hours away in Charlotte, Cora sometimes visited during long weekends or holidays with homemade meals. Old habits died hard, and she’d gotten used to taking care of him over the years.

   Cora’s phone rang and she answered as she pulled onto the busy street. “McLeod.”

   “Are we still on for drinks at Danté’s tonight?” a familiar voice demanded. “Because last time you bailed on me in the middle of my crisis.”

   Cora smiled at her friend Suzette Wilson’s disgruntled voice. “Suze, I hardly call not fitting into your skinny jeans a crisis. Besides, I didn’t bail willingly. I had to work.”

   “Yeah, well, someone else can be the hero this time. You can’t single-handedly take down all the villains in Providence Falls. Let someone else have the limelight for a change. Anyway, it’s the weekend, and you promised. I’m in dire need of a girls’ night. Jimmy’s been getting on my nerves ever since he started hanging around those bikers. He called me his old lady yesterday.” Suzette’s voice rose up a notch. “His old lady, Cora.”

   Cora wanted to laugh at her friend’s outrage. “I think it’s a term of endearment.”

   “Maybe when you’re in a biker gang,” Suzette pointed out with a huff. “Which, Jimmy isn’t.”

   “True.” Suzette’s current boyfriend spent his days working at the Artists Loft, drinking soy decaf lattes and creating “art” on canvas via splattered paint. Mostly he just angsted around wearing fingerless gloves, doing his best to look world-weary. As he’d yet to hit it big as an artist, he tended to try on new personas.

   “So I went nuclear on him, and now we’re not talking,” Suzette said.

   Cora was glad Suzette couldn’t see her grin. Her friend was always having a meltdown about something. They’d met in high school and bonded over their mutual dislike of the cafeteria food and old Mr. Sleazak’s bell-bottom pants. Suzette had been new to Providence Falls High, and since Cora pretty much knew everyone and everything about her beloved city, she’d taken Suzette under her wing. Later, when everyone else graduated and moved on, both of them had stayed in town. Suzette had gone to aesthetician training, and Cora had taken the fast track toward her lifelong dream of becoming a police officer. Since she was five years old, she’d dreamed of following in her father’s footsteps. Cora and Suzette’s chosen career paths couldn’t have been more different, but over many years and countless dating disasters, the two of them had remained fast friends.

   Suzette was still going off when Cora pulled into the gravel parking lot behind The Lusty Lady a few minutes later. The building was old and weathered, with peeling pink paint and a faded sign showing a pair of legs with fishnet stockings. The parking lot wasn’t even half-full, which was a good thing. A slow day meant Nero’s ex-wife might be more inclined to talk. From reports yesterday, Nero was tweaking on something, and the baseball bat made him more dangerous than usual. The sooner Cora could track him down, the better. With any luck, she’d be able to find his ex with minimal effort.

   “Get your hands off me!” A bleached blonde woman came teetering out of a side door wearing a micro miniskirt and a halter top the size of a postage stamp. Her enormous breasts were heaving in fury, and she was spewing curses at the glowering man who had a death grip on her arm. Nero.

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