Murder In Louisiana Politics

by Jim Riley

  "Are you gonna win?"

  "If you're the prize, I will."

  "Then I'm the prize." She grinned again.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Kenny's next match was a little tougher. The other player was only average, but played above his ability. He hit a hot streak and was left with a not-too-difficult shot on the eight ball. The shot caromed off the rail.

  Kenny quickly ran the rest of the solid balls, and took little time sinking the eight ball in the side pocket. He walked back and took his seat next to Paula.

  "You almost took too long," she whispered.

  "Then I'd have to hope he's too drunk to pick you, but I doubt if anyone gets that drunk"

  "I'm getting excited," she ran her hand up his leg right. "I can tell you are too."

  He grinned and did not brush her hand away.

  "I'll show you how excited I am when I win this."

  "Just remember to hit the cue ball with the other end of the hard stick," she giggled.

  Kenny watched the top two seeds playing each other. They were both good, and the game lasted less than four minutes. The better player finished off the respected opponent with a fine bank shot.

  "Lag for the break?" The kid challenged Kenny.

  The challenge was to stand at one end of the table, and hit the ball hard enough to rebound off the other end and get it as close to the original end as possible without touching the original end. Kenny could not ask for anything better.

  The other kid went first, and hit an admirable lag shot. The cue ball ended up less than six inches from the bank at his end.

  "Take that, sucker," he said to Kenny, and then walked over in front of Paula and eyed the length of her body.

  "I understand you're playing?" The young man asked.

  She glanced at Kenny. He returned the look with a smile and a slight nod. He then hit his lag shot. The cue ball came to rest less than one inch from the edge.

  "I'm playing," Paula said to the stunned player. "But I've got a feeling you won't be."

  Kenny broke the racked balls with a tremendous shot, sinking the eight ball for an instant win. He acted as surprised as he could, but the truth was he could perform this feat more often than not if allowed to rack the balls.

  The other player's mouth dropped open. The losers, sitting around and watching, whooped and hollered. Then they realized they owed Kenny a lot of money.

  "You cheated," one said.

  "Hey, I got lucky," Kenny responded. "You've seen me play all night. It had to be luck."

  Kenny turned his back to the other players and faced Paula. Then he winked at her. He turned back to the angry kids.

  "I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll give you a chance to win your money back."

  "What? And let you get lucky again?" The first young man asked.

  "Look. I really don't want any trouble," Kenny said. "I just came in here for a beer and a friendly game of pool. But I want to give you a chance to get your money back."

  "How are you going to do that? We don't trust you know more."

  "We think you might be scamming us," another added.

  "I'll make it easy for you. I won't take a shot."

  "Then how are you going to let us win our money back?"

  "You guys pick a player and then I'll pick a player. If your player wins, then I'll give all the money back," Kenny offered.

  "Let's get this straight," the young man from the championship said. "We get to choose who will play for our side first, and then you'll pick someone else to play for you."

  "That's right," Kenny nodded. "And you guys get to choose first. Then I'll pick a shooter. The game will be double or nothing. Your guy wins and you get your two thousand back. If my player wins, then you owe me four thousand."

  The other seven players huddled in the corner. Some wanted to pay Kenny immediately, but the two good players wanted to take Kenny up on his offer. Kenny remained on the side, sipping on a beer. The two good players broke from the huddle and approached Kenny.

  "We want to make a counteroffer," one said.

  Kenny took another sip of his beer.

  "I'm listening," he said.

  "We'll do it if you don't pick either one of us."

  "That's not fair," Kenny moaned. "You two are the best two players in the room by far. I admit I got really lucky to win the last game. It's going to take a lot more than luck for someone else to win."

  The two boys went back to the others. Kenny could hear more heated discussion rising from the group. Every couple of seconds, one of the seven raised and glared at him.

  The two young men returned.

  "We'll make it easy for you. One of us will play, but you can't pick the other one."

  "That's not–" Kenny started.

  "Wait," the first young man said. "You haven't heard all the offer."

  "Okay," Kenny settled back. "I'm listening."

  "We'll give you two-to-one odds. If your guy wins, we'll pay you four thousand more for a total of six thousand."

  Kenny moaned and turned away. He winked at Paula. Then he turned back and walked over to the five remaining young men. He shook his head as he surveyed each. Then he stumbled back to the two good players.

  "I'll tell you what," he stated. "I probably don't have a chance, but if my player wins, you guys pay me a total of eight thousand. If my shooter loses, we're even."

  "We've already given you a fair offer."

  "Look at those guys," Niki nodded at the other five. "What chance do any of them have against one of you? It's not even close to a fair match."

  The better of the two players looked at his companion and then at his other buddies. Then the fix was in. Whoever Kenny chose, that player would throw the game. The only worry was if Kenny offered half of the pot to the player he chose. But they were confident that, barring a miracle of unbelievable proportions, they could beat any of them easily.

  "You've got a deal," the player said. "I'll be playing for our team."

  "Now there's a real surprise," Kenny said with a hefty dose of sarcasm.

  He walked over to the five other players again. He spent several minutes eyeing each one, shaking his head at each. He walked back to the two good players with a serious frown.

  "I've made my decision," he announced.

  "Which one of those losers are you going to pick?" The best player asked.

  "I'll take her," Kenny turned to pointed at Paula.

  "Huh? Hey, that's not fair."

  "Why not?" Kenny asked. "I watched these guys play. They don't have a chance. I've never seen the young lady play. But I've got a feeling she can hold her own."

  "I've never lost to a girl," the player boasted. "Dude, you're thinking with your dick instead of your head."

  "You may be right," Kenny admitted. "But if that's true, then I will walk out of here losing two hundred dollars, my original investment."

  He turned to look at Paula.

  "But two hundred is a small price to pay to get acquainted with a lovely lady."

  Paula did not blush, nor did she flinch.

  "All right, Dude. Let the whore shoot for you. Does she come as part of the package?"

  "I can't speak for the lady," Kenny answered. "I've never met her before tonight. But I don't think it's fair to her since I'm the one who put her in the spot."

  "But I don't want to screw you. Now her–" he let his voice trail off while ogling Paula one more time.

  His buddies cheered. They pointed at Paula and grabbed their crotches. One even pulsated his hips.

  Paula had been silent during the entire conversation. She stood and walked over to the wall rack holding the pool sticks. After looking at each, she took the shortest one.

  "I'll take that bet on one condition," she said.

  "What's that, Whore?" The boy asked.

  "I get to cut your dick off if I win," she smiled and moved her focus to below his belt.

  The boy winced instinctively, closing his knees together.

/>   "Come on, you can beat the bitch," one boy yelled.

  "Yeah, she's bluffing," another added.

  "You'll get to show her what you can do with your dick after you beat her," another said.

  The boy regained his confidence.

  "All right, sweetheart. But I've got a change for you. After I beat you, all of us get a turn." He motioned to the other boys.

  "Hold on," Kenny stepped in. "Let's call this off before it gets out of hand. This wasn't part of the bargain."

  "If they're planning on getting a piece of me," Paula said. "Then the same goes for them. I get to cut off their dicks also."

  The celebrations from the other boys died. Nothing but silence came from the group. Finally, one guy stepped forward.

  "You can beat her with your eyes closed. You're the best player in Livingston Parish," he said with confidence, though he kept glancing toward his privates.

  "You're on," the good player said.

  Paula took a short cue stick and chalked the tip with the little blue cube. She edged next to Kenny.

  "I hope you're as good as I think you are," he whispered.

  "Me, too," Paula whispered back without looking at him.

  Chapter Eighty-Three

  They lagged for the break. Paula came up just short, the cue ball stopping an inch short of the other player's. When he hit the break shot, three balls flew into the corner pocket.

  He took a straight shot on the five ball and a bank shot on the six ball, sinking both. But his next shot went wide of the mark. The cue ball came to rest directly behind the eight ball, leaving Paula an impossible attempt. The other young men, while still nervous, broke into grins. They made lewd remarks and cast lingering gazes when she bent over the table to line up her shot.

  "I say we take her right here on the table," one said loud enough for everyone to hear.

  "I'll give her a couple of balls to play with," another jeered.

  Paula raised and walked directly in front of the young men.

  "Who said that?" She demanded.

  "I did," the first boy said. "What are you gonna do about it?"

  "I only wanted to find out whose dick I needed to cut off first," she smiled and went back to the table.

  Paula walked around the table twice, stopping every so often to peruse the position of the striped balls.

  "What's wrong, bitch?" One boy yelled. "Scared to take a shot?"

  Paula ignored him and circled the table again. Then she winked to Kenny and positioned herself behind the cue ball.

  "Combination, eight to the nine to the twelve, ten ball in the corner," she said. All the kids hooted and hollered. They had never seen a four-ball combination deliberately made.

  Paula struck the shot and watched one ball strike another until the ten ball plopped into the corner pocket. Complete silence.

  Paula made the other striped balls with ease, and left the cue ball perfectly positioned for a straight shot on the eight ball. First, she walked over to the young man that admitted to the lewd remark.

  "Do you want to go ahead and drop your pants?" She asked. "Then you'll have a couple of minutes to say goodbye to your dick."

  The kid blanched and raced to the front door. He disappeared into the dark night. Two others followed.

  Paula returned to the table and made the shot, the eight ball dropping into the corner pocket. She said nothing, merely taking the short cue stick and placing it back in the rack.

  "I think you guys owe me eight thousand dollars," Kenny said, directing his attention to the best player.

  "We ain't got that much money," the player responded, looking nervously over his shoulder.

  "You made a bet you couldn't pay?" Kenny sounded incredulous. He knew when he made the bet the kids had little money.

  "How much do you have?" He asked.

  The kids got together and huddled. After a brief discussion, the leader turned back to Kenny.

  "We have a little over fourteen hundred, and I've got this Rolex watch my grandpa gave me. He said it's worth ten grand."

  "I'll take both," Kenny stated.

  "That's not fair," the kid snorted. "I just told you the watch is worth ten thousand dollars. We only owe you eight."

  "I'm no watch expert. For all I know, that thing could have been made in Mexico with child labor. It's both guys. Then you can figure out how to tell you grandpa you lost a valuable watch. I'm sure you'll come up with a good story."

  The kid reluctantly stripped the watch off his arm and handed it to Kenny. Then they gathered their money and gave that to him. It came to a little over twelve hundred dollars.

  "I thought you said there was fourteen hundred," Kenny said. "You're a little short."

  "We forgot about all the drinks we had," one boy replied.

  Kenny turned and gave the money to Paula.

  "This is for you," he said. "You did a good job."

  "Not nearly as good as the one I'm about to do. If I understand the rules right, the winner gets to pick the trophy. I won, and I'm picking you."

  "You don't have to do that."

  "Well, you do. You agreed to the rules before you started. You can't back out now," she said.

  Kenny followed her into the darkness behind the bar. He had drunk enough beer to give to him a slight buzz that was only enhanced by the image of the exotic young woman leading him.

  Chapter Eighty-Four

  "What do you want first?" Paula asked when they settled in next to the dumpster.

  "You won," Kenny responded. "You get to choose."

  "Fine. You drop those jeans, and we'll start down there."

  Kenny fumbled with the buttons, but finally got them all undone. His jeans dropped to his ankles. He was so busy getting his pants off, he did not notice Paula slipping the syringe out of her pocket.

  "My, my," she cooed, looking down at his crotch. "You really are a big boy."

  "I'm about to explode. It won't take much."

  "I've got just the thing," Paula responded, taking the cap off the needle.

  The darkness was suddenly filled with light when the back door to the bar burst open. The four remaining boys stumbled through the door. One held an old pistol.

  "We want our money back," the leader said.

  "And we mean business," said the one toting the pistol.

  "Hold on, fellows," Kenny held up his hands, feeling foolish with his pants down around his ankles. "We can work this out."

  "Ain't nothing to work out," the first kid snorted.

  "And we're going to take the bitch," the other said.

  Paula stepped between Kenny and the boys.

  "Are you referring to me?" She asked.

  "You bet, you whore. You're about to please every one of us as many times as we want."

  "Now that could be a problem," Paula said softly.

  "Ain't no problem," the boy said. "You can start with me."

  "Sorry. I can't do that."

  "Why not?" The boy stepped right next to her.

  "I've got this rule. I only please one person a day and today is not your day. Tomorrow isn't looking so good either for you."

  "You ain't making the rules, bitch." He pointed the pistol right at her belly.

  "That little .22 doesn't scare me. Particularly, when you can't hold it."

  "Huh?" The young man muttered.

  Kenny did not see everything. It all happened too fast. He saw the flash of the razor knife in Paula's hand. Then he heard a loud scream and watched the kid's hand fall to the ground, still holding the pistol.

  After that, Paula was a blur. She sliced the neck of the leader and cut the belly open of one of the other kids. The fourth one stared in horror as Paula jammed the syringe into his neck.

  Then she cut his pants off and dismembered the young man. She stepped back to the kid who was left with only one hand and cut him across the back of the neck, severing his spine.

  When she finished, she turned back to Kenny, but he was gone. She heard his pickup cr
ank and his tires squeal out of the parking lot in front of the bar.

  She smiled. Paula had not accomplished her original goal, but she had experienced a lot of entertainment. Besides, she felt an odd attraction to Kenny Long. That did not mean she would not kill him, but she was not disappointed he escaped this night. After all, a girl could only stand so much pleasure at one time.

  Chapter Eighty-Five

  "Paula," Mayeaux spoke her name as though he was speaking of a category five hurricane about to ravage South Louisiana. He had the same impotent feeling before Katrina and Gustav hit the same year, back to back, leaving almost none of the lower part of the state unaffected.

  "She just said her name was Paula," Kenny responded, sitting across the desk from the Chief of Homicide. "She never told me her last name."

  Kenny had spent the last hour and fifteen minutes telling Samson and Niki about his encounter with Paula that resulted in the death of four young men. One of them died by poison. He left out no detail. No matter how embarrassing, he was in too much of a state of shock to be bound by emotion.

  "It was like she flew through the air. First, it was the kid with the .22 pistol, and then the kid she beat the –" his voice trailed off.

  "Did you get a license number of the Camaro?" Niki asked.

  "There can't be that many green ones around town with Mag wheels."

  "We know which one it is," Samson slid a piece of paper across the desk to Niki. "It was stolen from the car lot on Airline Highway right after the owner closed down. He was catching up on some paperwork in his office, and heard it leaving. By the time he got outside, it was gone."

  "You have to admit," Niki said. "The girl is talented. And in a lot of different ways."

  "You should see her shoot pool. It's amazing," Kenny said, before realizing how little that particular ability was compared to the assassin's more sinister talents.

  "Do you have any idea how lucky you were tonight?" Mayeaux asked.

  "Sure. I mean winning a bunch of money and a Rolex. I don't think I've ever had a night like this before in my life."