Black

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Wow. You look terrible. Did you sleep in your car or something?" Roxie asked the following morning.

"Close enough. I was up late on a stakeout," Black said, placing a cup of chai on her desk before plopping down on the couch across from her. Mugsy stalked over on stiff legs and then leapt onto his lap, as if he knew that he could get the maximum amount of hair on Black's suit with the maneuver. Black rubbed his plump belly. Mugsy purred, and then hooked a needle-sharp claw into his trouser fabric and pulled on it. Black leapt up like he'd been scalded, and Mugsy flipped to the side, landing feet-first on the floor and scurrying off.

"Jesus. That damned cat!"

"I told you he loves you. He only does that to people he really loves."

"How come he doesn't do it to you, then?"

"I guess he loves you more," she said, batting her eyes at him. She was wearing her usual black top and black jeans, today with red Converse All-Stars. Black had to admit that it wasn't a bad combination - she had a way of filling it out nicely.

"And now I've got the scars to prove it. The fat bastard ruined my slacks."

"Ruined them? Come on. Don't be a whiny bitch, boss. They're fine. Oh. Wait. Is that blood?"

Black's hand shot to his crotch area, where everything felt intact, at least.

"Is this really appropriate behavior for a male business owner? I mean, in front of his only female employee?" Roxie asked innocently.

"You said you saw blood."

"No, I asked whether that was blood. I was mistaken. But that doesn't excuse your standing there fondling yourself in front of me. It's kind of icky. I'm just saying..."

"Roxie, I was not fondling myself."

"All right, this is getting really uncomfortable in here. Can we please just stick to being professional?"

"The cat clawed my pants."

"You mean your slacks."

"Whatever. Mugsy started it, not me..."

"Aren't you going to ask me what I've learned about your newest client?" Roxie asked in her typical abrupt manner, having lost interest in tormenting him, at least for the time being.

"After I finish bleeding out."

"Your boy Hunter's a deadbeat," Roxie said, savoring the final word with the relish of a wine connoisseur quaffing a glass of '95 Petrus.

Black did a double take. "Come again?"

She gave him an insulted look. "I'll ignore that. I got his credit report, and he's a late pay on everything but his cars. And get this - he's got tax liens on the house, in addition to the large mortgage, which he hasn't paid for five months. Credit card debt is over a quarter mil, owes the IRS a small fortune, stiffed his private jet company to the tune of a hundred grand..."

"You're kidding."

She regarded him deadpan, without blinking. "Because that's how I kid."

"So you're not kidding..."

"Nope. He's broke. Or he's stretched so thin that he's had to put it all on black. Pardon the pun."

She handed him the report. He took it and began pacing as he read.

"He's broke, all right. I don't suppose you got anything from the banks listed on here?"

"No. I don't feel like committing more than one felony per hour, thanks."