Stories
Noir: Don't Step on Snakes

The Hot Springs office was separate from the rest of the hotel. It was at the front of a long building that housed the mineral springs and mud baths. Inside there were two doors that led into the rest of the building, one on the left, the other on the right. A sign on the lefthand door said, "Please lock your valuables. Men." The righthand door was the same, except it was marked "Women".
 
Dancer made a small gesture and turned to the desk. Moose and his partner separated and went through each door with surprising swiftness.
 
It happened so fast the pale pudgy girl behind the desk had no time to object. Her mouth opened showing lipstick-smudged teeth as her slow mind struggled to work. Her hair was teased out and heavily sprayed. It emphasized her fat pasty face.
 
Dancer said softly, "We're the private party for Smith. Completely private. If the phone rings, let it." He leaned forward slightly and slitted his eyes. He looked like a snake. "And no calls out. Understand?"
 
The girl nodded. She was smart enough to be scared.
 
Dancer wore an ostentatious plaid suit he thought was stylish. It fitted his slight figure like the skin of a snake. His pale blue eyes were cold and empty. The girl felt his stare cut into her skull.
 
1979

 
Soft cover, 4 stories, 28 pages, 8¼" x 5½", $5.00", plus shipping and handling.
Copyright 2010 Samuel Buckley    Designed by Phoenix Story Productions llc