That did the trick: Melva exploded. "You God damned mother fucking Son of Bitch. . ." she spat, her normally pretty face distorted in anger. Judy beat a hasty retreat to the other side of the hall as Melva cut loose with language that would shame a sailor. Casey looked at her for a moment, then brought the outburst to an abrupt halt by emptying both cokes over her head. For a moment she sputtered like a drowned cat then started screaming at the top of her lungs.
"For once in your life, just shut up!" he said, reaching out and giving her a little push. Melva slipped, losing her balance. Her arms flailed and she sat down hard amid the spilled ice and coke on the dance hall floor, her screeching temporarily silenced in a moment of greater indignity.
From the corner of his eye, Casey spied Hoot charging through the crowd, his muscled arms shoving people aside left and right. As the huge man closed, Casey raised his hands in surrender, only his old friend didn't slow, he just kept coming, his face set in lines as hard as stone. A chill ran down Casey's spine - fear gripped his heart. He had never seen Hoot look this grim before. At the last possible moment Casey did a side-step spin and with a dancer's precision kicked the man squarely in the groin. It was hardly a love tap, but still far from the power Casey was capable of. He wasn't mad at Hoot, just suddenly scared to death of him. The surprise attack brought about the desired effect: Hoot folded. Casey, adding insult to injury, planted a solid right to the side of Hoot's jaw and drove him to the floor. It was over in an instant, but Casey wasted no time in congratulating himself. He knew at best that Hoot was only stunned and there wasn't a chance this side of hell of surprising him again.
The ensuing confusion covered Casey's escape. He slipped out the front door, pushed past a crowd of smokers near the entry and stepped into the alley between the buildings. There, he waited. When Hoot got his senses back, he was going to be one pissed off individual and Casey had no yen to be caught loitering at a phone booth waiting for a cab. What a night to be on foot he thought! He watched the entrance while silently cursing the sports car that spent more time in the repair shop than it did on the road.
or Behind him, the building's service door opened, dimly illuminating a section of the alley. Casey tensed, then relaxed as the counter crew began dragged trash bags out to the Dumpster. The kids made several trips and Casey realize just how up-tight he was when he jumped each time the metal lid clanged. A few minutes later, Melva came out the front a step ahead of Hoot. Casey slid deeper in the shadows with a hollow, empty feeling invading his gut. He knew he had overreacted. It all happened too fast to think - Hoot's line backer size made him scarily intimidating, but knowing the man as he did, he realized that Hoot was probably just intent on breaking up the fight.
"Damn it to hell! "He muttered, "Why did it have to end this way?" He berated himself for not using his head and just walking away from Melva and her mind games. Now, the one good thing that had come from knowing Melva was gone: His friendship with Hoot. The man's myopic devotion to his cousin was unwavering - odd that he couldn't see what a manipulating bitch she was and him the most manipulated one of all.
"Woman trouble, Huh?" A voice from behind startled Casey and he spun to face the bearded counter man. "Got a light?" the fellow, asked, shaking a cigarette loose from a crumpled pack. Casey handed him a book of matches, then at the sound of squealing tires glanced back to see Melva's BMW pull away. "She looks familiar," the man said, waving a glowing cigarette in the general direction of the retreating car. "Who is she?"
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"Melva Birch."
"No shit, you mean the Divine Melva?"
"Or, the Malevolent Bitch, depending how well you know her." Casey replied, fishing out a Marlboro and lighting up. He'd been trying to quit, but at that moment he really felt the need for one.
"So, what was all that about, a break up?"
"Naw, an old business deal gone sour. She won't take no for an answer."
"Man, you two deal hard. Say, aren't you afraid she'll call the cops? I mean you did knock her down. That's assault if she presses charges."
Casey answered with a short bitter laugh, "You don't know Melva. You can bet she has something on mind right now, but it isn't the cops. Besides, I didn't hit her, I just gave her a little push. Only her pride got hurt."
"What about the guy?"
"Well, that's a different story. I suppose Hoot could press charges, only I don't think he will. Melva has him wrapped around her little finger." Again a twinge of guilt invaded Casey's conscience. Poor Hoot. Why the hell couldn't Melva simply accept the money and let everyone get along.
"I saw the action. I gotta say it was pretty neat, but you don't sound too happy about it."
"I'm not! I never wanted to fight Hoot, we were friends. Now I guess that's down the drain too, thanks to Melva. I just hope to God he isn't hurt."
Suddenly a muscular arm snaked around Casey's neck in a stranglehold. The cigarette flew from his hand as his arm was twisted painfully behind him. "You got your wish, Twinkle toes, I'm fine." Hoot's voice whispered in his ear. "Get the car, Scotty while my dear considerate friend and I have a conversation."
The bearded man grinned, tossed his cigarette aside and vanished down the alley.
"So, you didn't want to fight me, huh? Well, you sure could have fooled me! Jesus Christ Case, why couldn't you have just settled with Melva? Now you got her pissed off and I ain't feeling so friendly myself. I owe you one, Buddy, and if I hadn't heard what you just said, you'd be getting it right now."
Casey struggled, trying to break free which only tightened Hoot's grip. "No, ya don't. You had your chance, now we do it my way."
Hoot's red Buick pulled up along side, the same car that Casey had helped him pick out the summer before. He was thrown into the rear seat, Hoot's knee landing in small of his back while his hands were jerked behind him and lashed together. Hoot then pulled Casey to a standing position and with an open palm slapped him so hard stars danced before his eyes. "That's for the sucker punch," he said, roughly shoving him into the seat again. Crawling in beside Casey, he slammed the door.
Casey blinked back tears, not so much from pain as from frustration. He struggled with the binding, which only seemed to get tighter as he pulled. The car rolled forward into the light. The crowd of smokers still surrounding the entry, were now only steps away. Hoot grabbed Casey's arm just above the elbow, squeezing painfully, "No yelling. Just sit there and be quiet!"
Something began to wet Casey's upper lip. He snuffed; then a great deal more ran down to invade his mouth. Hoot glancing his way, noticed it. "Aw shit! Now you've got a nosebleed!" he said, as though it was all Casey's fault. Whipping out a handkerchief he mopping up the offending drip, "Lean back." he ordered, holding the cloth in place while Scotty pulled the car into the traffic lane.
"Where you taking me?" Casey demanded. He realized they were heading away from LA, going north.
"Just a little trip. Melva don't want to see you right now, and believe me you don't want to see her. We're gonna hammer this out Case, Melva want's her due."
Casey was about to say 'when pigs fly', but thought better of it. The fact that the Malevolent Bitch would involve herself in a kidnapping put a different light on the whole thing. She must be crazy, he thought. Hoot dabbed at the blood a few more times, then satisfied that the flow had stopped he settled back in the seat.
"Exactly where are we going?" Casey asked again.
"Never mind," Hoot replied, "But you might as well relax, it's gonna be a couple of hours. Are you comfy?"
"Oh hell yes! I never knew how great it was to sit with my hands tied behind me. Thanks for thinking of it." Casey responded sarcastically.
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