If ever there was a human equivalent of a slug, then Pinky was it. He was hugely obese, so much so that his little pointed head sank into the flesh of his shoulders, his chest and middle one long thick tube that seamlessly became equally tubular legs. His arms were inordinately thin by comparison, and it was only after checking her first impressions that Tess felt mildly embarrassed. Earlier she’d cautioned Po for his outmoded attitudes, and there was she casting ugly aspersions on a man obviously troubled by some horrible medical disorder.
Despite his nickname, Pinky Leclerc was black. He was lounging in a booth, a small table before him on which sat three empty beer glasses, and one on its way. Po had obviously spoken with him on the phone earlier, but the man’s small currant eyes sparkled when Po led the way across the bar towards him. He held out his arms, his fingers writhing with excitement. As hard as she tried, Tess thought again about slugs, and now squirming maggots as his digits wiggled. And Po was certain she’d like him?
‘As I live and breathe! Nicolas Villere back home where he belongs!’ Pinky’s voice was high-pitched with unrestrained emotion. He was genuinely delighted to see Po sauntering towards him. Tess noticed Po’s shoulders tighten at the loud announcement, but he didn’t comment. Pinky struggled to free himself from behind the table.
‘Don’t get up, Pinky,’ Po said.
‘Don’t get up? I haven’t seen my old friend in a dozen years and I’m not allowed to give him a hug, me?’ Pinky waved off the instruction and pushed aside the table. He made it up to one foot, but by then Po had reached him. Po leaned in and gave his friend a manly hug around one shoulder. Pinky beamed, his tiny eyes sparkling in the dim light as he patted Po’s back.
They exchanged welcomes while Tess stood with her hands clasped at her middle. Other patrons of the bar were watching the show of affection in bemused silence. Po finally turned from Pinky and waved her forward. ‘Pinky, this is my friend Tess.’
‘Charmed,’ Pinky said, reaching out a hand for hers.
His touch was warm and dry, not icky, as she’d feared.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Tess said, and found she meant it.
‘What’s a lovely young woman like you doing with an old wrinkly like him?’ Pinky beamed his love at Po despite the taunt.
‘We’re not that kind of friends,’ Tess said coolly, and caught a tug at the corners of Po’s mouth.
‘Come, come, sit down, please. You can sit here, lovely Tess.’ Pinky patted the bench to his right. Po slipped into the booth to his left. Pinky waved grandiosely at the barman. ‘Some beers over here?’
‘Please, just iced water for me,’ Tess said.
‘I’ll still take a beer,’ Po added for clarity and the barman nodded.
Pinky shifted his bulk around. He looked directly at Tess, slipped his hand into hers and said, ‘I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from Nicolas when he called me today. I thought that your powers of persuasion must be very high to get him back home, but now that I see you I can understand why he’d follow you anywhere.’
‘Ignore him, Tess. He’s a shameless flirt.’
‘Flirt? Moi?’ Pinky’s right hand went to his chest, then fluttered in the air. ‘Nicolas Villere, if you’ve got it, share it around I say, me.’
The man’s speech patterns were unusual, and Tess wondered how much of it was affected for show. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected that Pinky was a homosexual, or was sexually androgynous, whatever, she didn’t find his flirting threatening in any way. In fact, his campness was oddly endearing. He was the flipside to Po’s irascible machismo. The old adage that opposites attract was often true, but she had to wonder what had brought these two completely different types together in friendship. Actually, she suspected that she knew exactly.
The barman delivered their drinks to the table. Once he’d left, Po said, ‘Did you source the things I asked for?’
‘Directly to the point as ever, eh, Nicolas? You aren’t going to ask about my health, my work, my love life first?’
Po picked up his beer. ‘You haven’t held down an honest job in twenty years, and we don’t have time in one evening for you to relate your sexual exploits. How you feeling, Pinky?’
‘All the better for seeing you,’ Pinky grinned.
‘So now that we’ve caught up, did you source the things I asked for?’
‘Now hold on there, cowboy!’ Pinky patted Po’s knee. ‘I can see that the lovely Tess is burning to ask how a prima donna like me knows a prime hunk of beef like you. Am I right, my dear?’
Tess grinned as Po squirmed. ‘I must admit: the thought has crossed my mind.’
‘Why, we were bunk mates!’
‘Cell mates,’ Po corrected. ‘There’s a distinction.’
Pinky flapped his right hand. ‘Don’t believe him, Tess. There were plenty of times we cuddled up on cold nights.’
Po shook his head.
‘Am I lying? Oh, how scandalous of me.’ Pinky peeled with laughter.
‘You’re not lying, just misrepresenting the facts,’ Po said. ‘There were times when I hugged you, when you needed a shoulder to cry on.’
‘That is a fact for which I’m eternally grateful, me.’ Suddenly Pinky’s expression firmed and he leaned towards Tess again. ‘If it wasn’t for Nicolas, I would not have survived the Farm. It was hell on earth for a man of my delicate nature. If the animals hadn’t got me, I’m sure I would have done for myself. But Nicolas rode to my rescue on more than one occasion like the gallant knight he is, him.’
Po shrugged off the extravagant compliment.
‘Black, gay, and physically incapacitated,’ Pinky went on, ‘I was meat to those seeking easy prey, and trust me, Miss Tess, there were plenty of carnivores among the Farm animals. He can deny it all he wants, but that rough-looking brute masquerading as Nicolas Villere is a saint among men, my guardian angel, him.’
Tess appraised Po, and it was obvious he was uncomfortable with the praise, but Pinky had confirmed something to her. For all he was a person with a tainted history, one capable of brutal retribution, Po was also loyal and protective. But this was coming from another man who’d spent time in prison, so should she trust Pinky’s assessment?
‘Did you get the guns like I asked?’ Po pushed.
‘Whoa! Wait on! Guns?’ Tess’s voice came out as a hiss.
Po blinked slowly. ‘You do know what we might be up against here, don’t you, Tess?’
‘I know … but guns?’
Pinky looked from one to the other. ‘I sense a little friction. I’m not sure how to answer now, me.’
‘Hopefully in the affirmative,’ Po said. Then to Tess, ‘They’re for self-defence only. I’m not going to go on a shooting rampage, if that’s what’s concerning you.’
‘We’re neither of us licensed to carry a sidearm,’ Tess reminded him. ‘What you’re suggesting is illegal.’
‘Do you think those we might go up against will be carrying legal firearms?’
‘That’s beside the point,’ Tess argued.
‘How? Tess, you looked at those photographs enough times. Hasn’t it crossed your mind that if we’re looking for Crawford Wynne, then those responsible for the murders are looking too? Somebody’s cleaning up for Albert Sower. Do you really want to cross paths with them unarmed?’ Po rested his case, taking a sip of his beer to show he was done talking. Tess wasn’t.
‘I’m neither naive nor an idiot,’ Tess said, ‘but neither am I prepared to break the law. If things get out of hand then we call for backup from the local police, we don’t get into a damn shoot-out.’ Tess knew there was always the possibility that they might collide with someone also seeking Wynne. But she hadn’t planned on the sort of retaliatory action Po suggested. The last time she’d actively held a gun, things hadn’t ended well for her. Unconsciously she flexed her wrist, rubbing at it with her other hand. But Po must have caught the surreptitious action, because he decided he wasn’t finished after all. ‘If you aren’t happy about packing, then I’ll do it for both of us.’
‘I’d rather not,’ Tess said, but a stab of caution went through her. ‘But, hell, I guess we’re in this together.’ She shrugged. ‘I told you I had your back and meant it.’
Pinky grinned expansively. ‘Nicolas, stand aside, I think I’ve just fallen in love all over again, me.’