Gone to Texas
GONE TO TEXAS
A. S. FRENCH
NEONOIR BOOKS
Copyright © 2022 by A. S. French
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, businesses, locales and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ALSO BY A. S. FRENCH
Crime Fiction and Thrillers
* * *
The Astrid Snow series
Book one: Don’t Fear the Reaper.
Book two: The Killing Moon.
Book three: Lost in America.
* * *
The Detective Jen Flowers series
Book one: The Hashtag Killer.
Book two: Serial Killer.
Book three: Night Killer.
* * *
Northern Crime Fiction
Where The Bodies Are Buried
* * *
Writing as Andrew. S. French
* * *
The Arcane Supernatural Thriller Series
Book one: The Arcane.
Book two: The Arcane Identity.
* * *
The Ella Finn Fantasy Novella Series
Ella and the Elementals
Ella and the Multiverse
Ella and the Monsters
Ella and the Dreamers
* * *
Supernatural Short Stories
Dead Souls.
Go to www.andrewsfrench.com for more information.
CONTENTS
1. Whiskey Bar
2. Wishful Sinful
3. Tell all the People
4. Curses, Invocations
5. Moonlight Drive
6. Lions in the Street
7. The Palace of Exile
8. Mental Floss
9. The Celebration of the Lizard
10. I Looked at You
11. An American Prayer
12. Woman is a Devil
13. Hyacinth House
14. Hello, I Love You
15. The Soft Parade
16. Love Her Madly
17. The Spy
18. Break on Through
19. Been Down So Long
20. Soul Kitchen
21. Shaman’s Blues
22. Strange Days
23. Unhappy Girl
24. The Changeling
25. People are Strange
26. Riders on the Storm
27. Dead Cats, Dead Rats
28. Take it as it Comes
29. Crawling King Snake
30. Queen of the Highway
31. All Hail the American Night
32. Newborn Awakening
33. Roadhouse Blues
34. We Could be so Good Together
35. Love Street
36. Touch Me
37. An American Prayer
38. The Crystal Ship
39. A Feast of Friends
40. L’America
41. Five to One
42. Texas Radio and the Big Beat
43. When the Music’s Over
44. Light My Fire
45. End of the Night
Thank You!
About the Author
Acknowledgments
1 WHISKEY BAR
Astrid sat at the table, cradling a pint in her hand. It was only half full since the rest of it was dripping from the head of the bloke opposite her. A gang of four lurked behind him. All their eyes were on her as Bob wiped the booze from his face. She guzzled from a bottle of Belgian beer. It tasted of coriander and orange peel and smelt like the back streets of London, the place she was due to return to in fewer than six hours.
Bob scowled at her. ‘Why did you do that? I was only being friendly.’
‘By putting your hand on my leg? That’s not being friendly.’ She finished her drink and put the glass on to the table. ‘That’s you being a pervert.’
‘Where are you from, lady?’
The familiar smell of sweat and spilt beer hung in the air as one of Bob’s group tried to stuff a plate of giant onion rings into his mouth. She studied Bob’s face as Lou Reed’s voice serenaded the back of her skull. His dark eyes appeared to shrink into his head as he hunched his shoulders and leant close to her, but not making the same mistake again: there was no touching the leg this time. She spotted the fear lurking in his face and realised this was all for show and the hulking men behind him were not his friends. That clumsy hand on her leg was from desperation.
‘I’m going to London, Bob; do you want to come with me?’
His gloom vanished as he spoke. ‘Can we go now?’
She was about to reply when the not so fantastic four stepped back to let a tall man approach her.
‘I hope young Robert isn’t bothering you, Ms?’
His Armani suit stuck to him like a second skin, and he smelt of fresh jasmine. Long, messy dark-brown hair hung down to his shoulders. If there’d been a remake of Tarzan on the horizon, she would have nominated him for the role.
Astrid stood and took Bob’s hand in hers. ‘He’s going to show me the bits of the city the tourists never see.’
The man didn’t move, blocking their exit. ‘Oh, you don’t want to do that, Ms.’ He rubbed his chin and peered at her. ‘New York is far too dangerous for strangers.’ He transferred his smile from her to Bob. ‘And Robert is in enough trouble as it is.’
She let out a long sigh. Did she need this aggravation when she had a plane to catch in a few hours? What did she care about the troubles of the man who’d grabbed her leg? She kept her eye on the new bloke and the four who must have been his employees while glancing at Bob. His hands shook so much, she thought they might drop from his arms.
And then the leader stepped to the side and presented her with a way out. But curiosity got the better of her.
‘What trouble is he in?’
Dapper Dan put a hand on his heart as he laughed. ‘Don’t let that concern you, Ms. You just be on your way now and be careful out there. The streets of New York can be hazardous.’
She was about to reply when the phone pinged inside her jacket pocket. Astrid removed it and read the message.
I need you to go to Texas as soon as possible. Please. It’s a big favour for me.
She returned to her seat, surprised George would ask her such a thing. She’d known him for nearly twenty years, the man who was her leader and mentor at the Agency and the only friend she had in the world, and in all that time, he’d never asked her for anything. He’d done lots for her, had risked his life and career to help her untangle herself from the clutches of the Agency, and now here he was asking for something unusual.
Bob touched her leg again. She didn’t flinch, seeing a face consumed by fear. Whatever Dapper Dan and his gang wanted him for, it wasn’t good. Still, what did she care? She used her phone to check flights from New York to Texas. The earliest was in five hours, a four-hour journey to Houston. So, there was time to kill.
She replied to George.
Why?
His reply was instantaneous.
I’LL SEND MORE DETAILS WHEN YOU GET THERE. ASAP.
It was something serious for him to be using all capitals. But he didn’t say when you get here, which meant he wasn’t in Texas.
She brushed Bob’s fingers from her leg as she leant towards him, so close only he could hear her.
‘What’s the deal with you and these morons?’
Hi
s eyes narrowed as his lips shook. ‘Grayson hurt my sister, so I went to the police. Then he threatened me if I didn’t change my story.’
She assumed Grayson was Dapper Dan. ‘So why are you here?’
He trembled as he spoke. ‘I live around the corner, so they must have followed me. When I saw you on your own, I thought they’d leave me alone if I was with you.’
He was as naïve as he was brave. She scanned the rest of the place, seeing what was close to her and selecting the correct map inside her head. Then she stood and went to Dapper Dan.
‘How loyal are those goons to you?’
His shoulders shook as he laughed. ‘Why?’
‘Because if all they care about is money, I’ll pay them to go.’ She glanced around the bar, spotting what she needed and where she had to be if things turned nasty. ‘Or you could just let Bob and me leave and enjoy your night.’ She gave him her warmest smile. He returned it with a crooked grin.
‘Now, why would I do that?’
Astrid stood six foot two in her bare feet and would have towered over the men around her even without the high heels she rarely wore, but had tonight. This meant she was peering down at Grayson as she pushed her face into his and grabbed his balls; they were small and easily accessible through his thin trousers.
He let out a shrill scream which was barely audible above the sound of The Strokes blaring from the jukebox. The goons were slow to respond, but her expression and clenched hand told them not to move towards her. She continued smiling as she turned to Bob.
‘Go home, Robert; you’ll get your justice.’
He scampered past her and out of the bar. She kept on squeezing as she wondered if she could transfer her plane ticket from London to Texas.
I didn’t ask George where in Texas. It’s a big place.
Grayson gritted his teeth as his lips quivered. ‘Let me go.’
She ignored the request and addressed his thugs. ‘Did he hire you to protect him?’
They stared at each other, dumbfounded, and she guessed there wasn’t a leader amongst them. Then the one in the middle with the blazing skull tattooed on his throat – that must have hurt – stepped forward.
‘You better let him go, lady.’
She tightened her fist and watched a flood of tears gush down Grayson’s cheeks.
‘Sure, in a minute. But I want to know what you lads will do once I release him.’
The blazing skull returned to his colleagues and they whispered amongst themselves. While they did that, she used her free hand to text George.
Whereabouts in Texas?
She slipped the mobile into her pocket as she waited for a reply. Then the blazing skull turned back to her.
‘We take orders from him.’
The phone vibrated against her leg. ‘So, if he tells you to attack me, you will?’
His face was unmoving. ‘That’s the rules, lady.’
Astrid moulded the maps in her head into shape. She could let go of Grayson and try to fend off the goons, but that would mean managing the conflict area and finding a weapon. Not a gun or a knife, she didn’t want to harm anybody apart from Grayson, but she needed something to defend herself with.
She scanned her immediate surroundings again: the bar was six feet away, with plenty of glasses or bottles to use. Beyond that was a pool table, and the cues and balls would be handy as weapons, but she doubted she’d reach them before one of the thugs grabbed her.
The only other option was to go on the attack and hope for the best. She could push Grayson into them like a bowling ball and pins. They were close together and only a few feet away; his bulk with her force might scatter them. Then she could grab her glass and smash the closest of the thugs. But that would still leave three of them, and unless one or two tumbled into the floor with Grayson, they’d be on her in seconds.
Or perhaps she could drag him out of the bar, a hostage to help her escape. Then what? Let him go and run? What if one of them had a gun and shot her in the back?
All of this bounced through her mind as she squeezed his genitals. The pain must have been too much for him as he fainted and collapsed into her. His weight promised to take them both into the floor, but she managed to get the proper leverage to stay on her feet.
If he’s out cold, he can’t give them any orders.
They glared at her, and she wondered if they’d noticed their boss was sleeping. As she did that, the sounds of sirens shot through her head. She thought her internal jukebox had kicked into automatic for one second and she was listening to The Clash or The Beastie Boys. Then she realised it came from outside and was getting closer. Maybe Bob had called the police. The goons must have heard it as their mugs dropped faster than a snitch in a concrete overcoat. That’s when she knew what she had to do.
‘He’s all yours, boys.’
She pushed Grayson at them, then turned and strode out of the bar. By the time she heard the crash behind her, she was outside and lights screamed towards her as she ducked down the nearest dark alley.
Astrid dodged the rats and dog shit as she picked up pace. There was a small bag to collect at her hotel, and then it would be straight to the airport. If they wouldn’t swap her current ticket, she’d get a new one and charge it to George.
A cold drizzle of rain dropped onto her as she cut out of the alley and moved in the opposite direction from the bar. Nobody had followed her, so she removed the mobile from her pocket and checked the latest message from her former boss and mentor.
Go to San Antonio, then to Eureka Falls, about a thirty-minute drive away. Let me know which flight you get.
The rain turned heavy and drenched her hair. The phone was in her hand as she walked; it was a longer flight, around six hours, but at least she’d have more time for sleep.
San Antonio instead of London. Texas over England.
Great. I’ve always wanted to go to the Alamo.
2 WISHFUL SINFUL
Astrid got no sleep on the journey, instead watching some terrible film about a symbiotic alien and two old episodes of Father Ted. At least they left her in a good mood when she stepped off the plane. San Antonio was an hour behind New York, so it was eleven o’clock Monday morning when she passed through the gates. There’d been no new messages from George, and there was no point texting him since it would be five o’clock in the afternoon in London and he’d be leading an Agency meeting. Once she passed through security, she headed out and climbed into a cab for the ride to Eureka Falls.
The drive was short and the hotel cheap, enough for her to pay for three days with the cash she had on her. The kid on the desk only ogled her twice as she paid, and then took the stairs to her room. The corridors smelt of last week’s food, and the carpet tried to stick to her shoes. The place was compact with a view of a giant office block straight from the grey 1970s. She threw her bag to the floor and her body onto the bed. Her phone lay next to her and she waited for it to ping with a message. She was considering leaving and taking a walk through town when a noise in the corridor made her sit up.
The thump on the door was as heavy as the footsteps that had approached her room. In between the banging was wheezy breathing which, to her keen ears, indicated a heart attack soon if the owner wasn’t too careful. She was letting them knock one more time when the words police, open up put her on alert. She peered through the spyhole and glimpsed two sullen figures behind the badges they held. They could have been fake, she’d used plenty of her own over the years, but she didn’t care. Even though she’d checked into the hotel in her real name, nobody knew she was staying there, so this might be something to keep her overactive brain occupied.
She let them in and gave them her best smile. He was tall, rake thin with a handlebar moustache transported from the 1980s. Her face was so tight, Astrid could have opened a bottle using her skin. She was younger than him, maybe by ten years.
‘How can I help you, Officers?’
It was the woman with blonde flecks peppering her dark
hair who replied. ‘Are you Astrid Snow?’
She didn’t see any point in lying. ‘I am.’
‘Ms Snow, I’m Detective Hudson, and this is Detective Hicks.’ Astrid watched them inspect the surroundings, examining the shabby furniture and frayed carpet. Their eyes narrowed as they looked at each other, and she guessed they were making a quick judgment about her based on the room. She scrutinised them, noticing the confident way he held himself and the tiny tic at the corner of Hudson’s mouth. The woman spoke again.
‘Do you know a man called Adam Church?’
Astrid racked her brain, but that name didn’t ring a bell. ‘Never heard of him. Has he left me some money in a will?’
Her attempt at humour fell on deaf ears. ‘We have him at the station downtown, and he’s asking for you.’
A man she’d never met had given them her name and knew she was in Eureka Falls.
‘How did you find me here?’
Hicks stuck a toothpick between his teeth as he replied. ‘We checked arrivals at San Antonio airport, and then rang all the hotels in town.’