Blessing of the Lost Girls by J A Jance EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: J A Jance
- Language: English
- Genre: Traditional Detective Mysteries
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Tucson, Arizona
Saturday, February 16, 2019
At Tucson’s Buckeroo Bar and Grill, the Fiesta de Los Vaqueros was
in full swing. That was hardly surprising since it was the closest watering
hole to the rodeo grounds. It was a divey kind of place where waitresses
cooked customers’ steaks more or less to order on a well-worn indoor grill
positioned just inside the front door. The bar came complete with bad
lighting and peanut shells scattered on the sticky surface of a grimy floor.
There were plenty of rodeo fans crowding the place, but a goodly number
of the guests that night were rodeo participants—bull and bronco riders, the
guys who looked after the livestock, groomers, and even a rodeo clown or
two.
Since the Tucson Rodeo was only a few miles down the road from
Charlie Milton’s current RV park north of town, just off I-10 at Ina Road, he
could hardly turn up his nose at that, and naturally he stopped by the
Buckeroo afterward. Anywhere people were prepared to let their hair down
and party hearty was a happy hunting ground for him. They made it easy for
him to settle in on a stool with his camera bag casually placed on the bar
next to him, while he kept an eye out for whatever sweet young thing might
catch his fancy. Once he spotted a likely prospect, the next task at hand was
finding a way to cut her out of the herd.
Tonight he waited around until he was able to grab the stool at the very
end of the bar. He wasn’t here for casual conversation, and being next to the
wall halved the risk of his being caught up in some drunk’s idle chitchat.
Once settled in, he ordered a small pitcher of sangria. He knew from
experience that he could sip on that all night long without getting tipsy,
because unlike most of the Buckeroo’s other patrons that evening, Charles
Milton had no intention of getting drunk. And now, with his camouflage
camera bag on display, he settled in to see what opportunities might present
themselves.
Charlie’s BA, from Harvard no less, was in psychology, and he
considered himself to be a keen observer of people. He studied them from
afar, watching for what made them tick—for what might make them
vulnerable and/or available. He always focused on young women because,
generally speaking, young also meant stupid. Good-looking was fine as far
as it went, but he especially liked them young and trusting.
When a waitress came around, he ordered a medium-rare steak and a
baked potato. Steaks at the Buckeroo were somewhat problematic.
Since
each waitress was responsible for grilling her customers’ steaks, and since
some waitresses were better at that than others, it was a crapshoot whether
or not your indifferently prepared Buckeroo rib eye would come to the table
as ordered. Of course that wasn’t a problem for Charlie. He hadn’t come to
the establishment looking for fine dining any more than he had come in
search of engaging conversation. He had a different kind of red meat in
mind.
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