CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Conversation with the Cougar
Crockett was putting sandwiches and fries on the table when Puma re-entered the room. She was barefoot and four inches shorter, wrapped from chin to heels in terrycloth. Gone was the makeup, the false eyelashes, the jewelry, and most of the attitude. She looked about fourteen years old.
“And just who are you?” Crockett asked.
“I’m the stripped down model,” she said.
Crockett smiled. “So to speak. What’s your name?”
“My name?”
“Yeah. You’re way too young and pretty for me to call you Puma.”
“Teresa. Call me Terri. What’s yours?”
“Beckett,” Crockett said. “Call me Dan. You hungry?”
“Yeah, but I usually don’t eat if I’m working. Fucks with my enthusiasm.”
“You’re not doing that kind of work tonight. I’ve gotcha ‘til tomorrow morning, whatever that’s worth.”
“Hell, you’ve got me for a week at these rates.”
“Until tomorrow is fine,” Crocket said, removing his jacket. “I’m old and tired.”
Puma smiled. “You ain’t that old, and I can fix tired.”
“Eat.”
“You’re wearing a gun,” she said, her eyes fixed on his waist.
“It goes with my badge,” Crockett said, slipping off the 686 in its holster and tossing on the bed.
“Your badge?”
He took a seat across from her at the table. “Yeah. We’ll talk about all that after we pig out.”
Terri attacked the defenseless turkey with such gusto that Crockett called room service for two pieces of banana cream pie. Thank God it arrived before she finished the bird and fries, or she may have started on the pillows. After the meal, Crockett leaned back in his chair and fired up a Sherman. Terri looked at him.
“What’s that,” she asked.
“That, you culturally deprived child, is a Sherman MCD. I am a tobacco and coffee snob.”
“Gimme one.”
“I thought you said you didn’t use drugs.”
“It’s a cigarette or crystal meth. Your choice.”
“Would you like a Sherman?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Terri said, accepting the cigarette and a light. She inhaled deeply and returned her attention to Crockett. “Okay,” she said. “We’re done eating. What’s with the gun?”
Crockett produced his ID. “I’m after a man we believe is hiding in this area, perhaps at Philo’s old lodge. His name is Phillip Metzger, although he’s probably using an alias.”
Terri’s body posture shifted into protection mode. “What do you want him for?” she asked.
Crockett spent the next few minutes telling her. When he finished, she studied the floor for a moment.
“I know him,” she said. “Calls himself Mister Phillips. Lives in Philo’s old place. Him and some other guys. Bodyguards, errand boys, things like that.”
“How many?”
“Four or five stay there all the time, I think. Then there’s Hammer and the skinny guy. They come and go.”
“Tell me about Hammer.”
“He’s older and big. Heavy hands, thick neck, shaves his head. He’s pretty nice, though. Doesn’t give any of us any shit or nothing.”
“Us?” Crockett asked.
“Yeah. The girls that get called out there. Sometimes I work for Sunset Escort Service. Sunset is out of Rapid City, but has an office here in Deadwood that handles Deadwood, Lead, Central City and stuff. I go where I’m called. Around here even Sturgis. I did a weekend gig in Spearfish once. Might as well have gone to Fargo. It sucked. Girls go out to the lodge a couple of times a week. I’ve been called out there three or four times in the last seven or eight months. Recreation for Mister Phillips and whatever guys are there. We go out two or three at a time to party. Sometimes more of us.”
“You say there’s a skinny guy with Hammer?”
“Yeah. I think they call him Slick, or Flick or something. Got a bad complexion and long hair. He and Hammer are, like, more than just good friends, you know? Couple a fudgepackers. They don’t mess with any of us.”
“How ‘bout Phillips?”
“Big stud. Likes lotsa variety. Sometimes two or three at a time. Doesn’t like me, though.”
“Why not?”
“Doesn’t like the tattoo on my leg. Called me and Shelly in together once, noticed my tat’ after a while, and sent me back out into the other room. I’ve danced for him a couple of times, but that’s it. He’s an asshole. The girls say he wants them to worship him. Tell him how wonderful he is, what a great lover he is, how big his dick is, how they get wet just lookin’ at him and shit. They also say he has trouble getting it up. I don’t know. Usually, I’m with Boomer or Razor. Sometimes both. They like me. They’re two of the bodyguard types.”
“You know their real names?”
“Nope. Nobody uses nothing but nicknames. They talk like they’re in the army or something. Boomer and Razor are okay, I guess. I mean, I’ve had a lot worse. Razor gets pretty rough sometimes, and Boomer’s into booty duty.”
“Booty duty?”
“Ass fucking.”
“Ah.”
“They double up on me now and then. Who gives a shit? The money’s good enough that I can take a week off if I have to. I heal quick. Hell, this guy beat me up once down in Lead, and he was a fuckin’ preacher! Told the cops he was tryin’ to drive the devil outa me. He came all over himself while he was knocking me around with this big ass bible, for chrissakes. After somethin’ like that, a three-way with Boomer and Razor doin’ me is a fucking treat.”
Puma leaned forward, both her voice and face without expression.
“Ooo. Aaah. Oh, Baby. Don’t stop. You’re gonna make me come.”
Crockett sipped his iced tea and shifted the subject. “How big is the lodge?”
“Eight bedrooms, a big great room with a fireplace and stuff, a big kitchen, and three bathrooms. It’s all logs, two-story, got a four-car garage, a generator shack, a machine shed, and a storage shed. Usually three or four cars on hand, you know, SUV’s and shit. Sometimes there’s only four or five guys, sometimes seven or eight.”
“Know a man named Boster?”
“Not by name.”
“Around fifty, going gray, a little overweight, looks and acts like a cop.”
“Sounds like Cooper. I went with him once. Kinda creepy.”
“He hurt you?”
“No. Nothin’ like that. Wanted me to hurt him. So I roughed him up and shit. I slapped him around a little bit, used my heels on him, beat on him with his belt for a while, and did him in the ass with this dildo he had. I even choked him with a cotton rope while he beat off and came. Cried like a baby. He never did fuck me. Not even a Beejay. Got a couple a hundred tip outa the guy. Easy money. He wanted some real sick shit, but I said no. Now he uses Charlene. She likes fisting. Not me. I ain’t shovin’ my whole fuckin’ hand up some guy’s poop chute for just a lousy three hundred bucks. Yuk.”
Crockett showed no emotion. “Anybody else come and go out there that you know of?”
“I hear the guys take a stylist and a manicurist out there once a week or so from a salon, but they weren’t there whenever I was. Probably right though. Mister Phillips likes to look good.”
“Have you noticed any security devices on the property? Cameras? Lots of exterior lighting? Anything like that?”
“There’s a big light on a pole, but that’s always been there.”
“Ever see any guards being posted outside at night?”
“The nights I spent there, everybody was partying inside.”
“Drugs?”
“Smoke, coke, X, crystal meth, stuff like that. The guys like to get a little ripped before they fuck. You know. Makes them think they’re good at it.”
“How long since you’ve been out there?”
“A week or two ago. I probably won’t be going back for a while.”
“How is the place situated on the terrain? Is it in a valley, on a hill?”
“It’s near the top of a ridgeline. The road that leads to it, Cotton Gulch, stops at the Lodge.”
“Other ridgelines near it?”
“It’s the Black Hills. There are hills and valleys and ridges and gulches everywhere.”
“Okay. If I went into that area on foot, are there places around a half mile or so of the lodge where I would have a good view of the property?”
“Sure. Lots. And closer than that.”
“Great. Now here’s the tough stuff. Only you and your granddad know who I am or why I’m in town. He won’t say anything, and I sure as hell won’t. That leaves it up to you. If you mention our meeting or conversation to anyone, and it gets back to Phillips or his people, you are as good as dead. Believe me, he would have you killed and not even roll over in his sleep. If you’d like to avoid that, all you have to do is keep your mouth shut.”
“That’s why you wouldn’t stay at Cadillac Jack’s with me, huh?”
“Correct.”
“And that’s why we didn’t come here together. So you and I wouldn’t be seen with each other.”
“Correct again.”
“Wow. You were takin’ care of me, huh?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“That’s really nice.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
“I’m not gonna say shit to nobody.”
“There ya go. Thanks a lot, Terri. You’ve been a big help.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. We’re done. I have information and you’ve got two grand. The room next door is empty and paid for. If you’d like to take the rest of the night off, you are welcome to stay there through breakfast tomorrow.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“And just sleep?”
“Or watch TV, or soak in the tub, whatever you’d like. The room is yours if you want it.”
Terri got up, walked to the connecting door, opened it, and peered into the room. “Why are you giving me a place to stay?”
“I’m an incurable romantic. Thought maybe you could use a night off.”
“Okay,” she said. “Thanks.” Crockett watched her gather up some things out of his bathroom, grab her purse, and walk through the connecting door. In a moment she returned and looked at him. She appeared to be puzzled.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I, dear Terri, am going to put on some sweats, crash on the bed, wish I didn’t know your grandfather, and watch television until I go to sleep.”
“You’ve been nice to me.”
“My pleasure,” Crockett said.
“You sure you don’t want a blow job or something? Nothin’ like getting’ your rocks off to help you relax. I got no gag reflex and I swallow. You’ve sure as hell paid for it.”
Crockett smiled at her. “Goodnight, Terri.”
She shrugged, walked into her room, and closed the connecting door behind her.
He got up, locked it, flopped on the bed, and stared at the ceiling for a while, feeling very old and sheltered. Only then did he realize that not once during the entire time they’d spent together, had she ever called him by name.
Then again, his name wasn’t John.