"They love you, Nate," I told him encouragingly, "even if your singing stinks."
"It's all in the ears of the beholder," he said, smiling and showing off a gold front crown. Then he looked into his nearly empty bucket and seemed to do an about face. "Guess I could use some work on my chords."
Guiltily I dug into my pocket and came out with a couple more dollars, dropping them into the bucket. "Maybe this will help—"
He wet his full lips. "Thanks, D.J. Times are tough these days."
"For all of us," I said with a sneer.
He peered at me suspiciously. "So what brings you my way?" He chose to answer his own question, fluttering his false lashes. "You probably missed seeing my pretty face!"
"Don't believe that for a minute," I said firmly. "I'm not into clowns, pretty or not." It had been about six weeks since I'd come his way. If there was anyone who could find out where Jessie Wylson was holed up, it was Nate and his seemingly endless network of street contacts.
I removed the photo of The Worm from my pocket and laid it on Nate's palm. "Know him?"
He studied the picture as if it held the secret of the universe. "Should I?"
"His name is Jessie Wylson. They call him The Worm."
"Ugly dude," commented Nate bluntly, his brow furrowed.
For once we agreed on something. Nate was still staring at the photo when he asked: "Why you looking for the man?"
I decided to be straight with him. "He's wanted by the D.A.'s office for drug trafficking, among other things."
Nate scratched his fake nose, then sniffed like it was clogged with a white powdered substance. "So why come to me?" he asked, as if he hadn't a clue.
"I need to find him." My mouth became a straight line. "And I need your help—"
Nate's eyes popped wide. "Don't know the man. Don't want to know him, 'specially if he's got the D.A. on his ass. Sorry." He handed me the photo as if glad to be rid of it.
I had a feeling he was holding back on me, but didn't press it—yet. "Ask around anyway," I insisted. "Maybe you'll get lucky."
"Can't make no promises," he hedged. "But I'll give it my best shot—for you."
"I'll check back with you in a couple of days."
"That soon?" He rolled his eyes. "What do I look like, a miracle worker?"
Gazing at the Rose Clown, that wasn't exactly the first thing to come to mind. I told him: "The sooner you give me what I want, the sooner I'll leave you alone—for a while."
Nate went back to what he arguably did best and I headed to my favorite nightclub, satisfied that I had at least put the wheels in motion to find the man known as The Worm.
# # #
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R. Barri Flowers is an award winning criminologist and bestselling author of thriller, mystery, and suspense fiction for adults and young adults. Recent titles include MURDER IN MAUI: A Leila Kahana Mystery, DEAD IN THE ROSE CITY: A Dean Drake Mystery, DARK STREETS OF WHITECHAPEL: A Jack The Ripper Mystery, STATE'S EVIDENCE: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller, JUSTICE SERVED, and teen mysteries, GHOST GIRL IN SHADOW BAY and DANGER IN TIME.
The author has appeared on the Biography Channel, Investigation Discovery, and has been interviewed by ABC News. He lives in the Pacific Northwest, but spends a lot of time in Hawaii.
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EDGE OF SUSPENSE: Thrilling Tales of Mystery & Murder Page 14