Flix was fiddling with a half of a grapefruit when Phalen walked in.
"You look like something the dog dragged up," Flix said.
Phalen's skin was sallow. There were bags under his eyes.
"I feel like it," Phalen said. "My head has got to be the size of a watermelon. A watermelon that's just been dropped from a fifty-story building."
"Where in the world did you go?"
"Where in the world did I not go," said Phalen. "I think I hit every bar in this state. Tom knows all the best waterholes. All the ones that are fit to drink in and many, many, many more that are not. And he has a hollow leg to boot!"
"You went drinking with Tom Steele?" asked Flix.
"No," said Phalen. "Although I had to make it look like I was. You see, my main focus was gathering dirt not drinking. I thought New York was bad, Cupid, but it doesn't hold a candle to this place."
"City of Sin. Sodom and Gomorrah," said Flix.
"Sounds like you've been listening to Z. Oswall Buck," said Phalen.
"You're right. I have. I've been digging dirt, too."
"Come up with anything?" asked Phalen.
"Not much," said Flix, "but I do think our Mr. Buck warrants a closer look. How 'bout you?"
"Well," said Phalen, "I did manage to overturn a few choice clods."
YOU ARE READING
Ashes of Yesterday
Mistério / SuspenseWhat would make you pull the trigger? When Reed Kimball is found with a bullet between the eyes, the police are faced with so many suspects, they don't know where to begin. A gambler, a speculator, and a love 'em and leave 'em kinda guy, Kimball is...
