Crossroad Blues (The Nick Travers Novels) by Ace Atkins Page A

neck. Keith was too busy trying to look through Mr. Cruz's black sunglasses to see if the guy really had pupils.
    The black man's forearms were huge and covered in thick, gold jewelry. In fact, there was gold jewelry all around his neck and on his ears. When he smiled, all Keith could see was gold. It was kind of primitive. Like some kind of tribal thing.
    The black man said in a low, vibrating tone, "I love this man." His voice was somewhere between Barry White and James Earl Jones. A goddamn gold-plated Darth Vader.
    Mr. Cruz patted the man's arm and pulled him over into a seat.
    "Keith Fields, I want you to meet Sweet Boy Floyd."
    Keith shook his hand and it was dry. Not like his hair. His hair dripped with oily Jheri curl like a big-assed Jermaine Jackson wanna-be. He wore a black net shirt and slick polyester pants, two steps behind fashion.
    "This yore new talent?" Floyd asked.
    "It is," Mr. Cruz said.
    "Hmm. Aw-right there, podna. You know you hooked up with one fine organiza-shawn with this man? He's a class act."
    "I'm proud to be here," Keith said.
    A small crowd began to gather at the buffet and girls in robes began to walk to each table. Keith knew the deal; he'd been here before. All these teenage girls would sell you raffle tickets for lingerie. They'd parade around and model while you ate. Hell, these girls weren't even as old as Keith's sister, and she was only a junior in high school.
    Only in New Orleans.
    "Let's eat," Mr. Cruz said, as he led his employees to the buffet line. Keith let the two men go ahead as he quietly made a simple plate not to offend them. He was too nervous to eat. Cruz and Floyd bullshitted up ahead of him. He could hear Floyd's odd, high-pitched laugh from the other side of the buffet line.
    "You want some chicken, Keith?" Floyd asked.
    "No sir."
    "Sir. Shi-it."
    Cruz and Floyd laughed some more.
    Keith ate some soggy sweet potatoes and washed them down with a gulp of cold iced tea. He tried to push the food around the plate to make it look like he had eaten more, but Cruz and Floyd had no problem. They shoved their food in like they were hiding evidence, or it was the Last Supper. All that southern soul food in their mouths like a couple pigs. Hell, his manners weren't the best, but these two ate like a couple of prisoners. Arms wrapped around each plate like someone was gonna steal a greasy drumstick. How Cruz stayed so damned skinny Keith didn't know. Maybe he puked it all out like them Romans did.
    Cruz wiped his mouth and slurped down some tea. "Floyd, we had a little trouble in the Delta last night. I want you two to head down there today. I'll have Keith fill you in on the way. But I want this thing resolved quick."
    "Tell me now," Floyd said. "I like to know the who before the what."
    Cruz looked at an elderly pair of men behind him and turned back.
    "Baker's dead."
    "Thought you wanted it that way," Floyd said. "More of them records for you."
    "The records he had on him were nothin'. Not what he promised."
    Floyd snorted. "Not the lost nine, huh? Man, I cain't believe you fell for that. Ain't no such thing. His yuppie black ass was just workin' your chain like a crank."
    "I still believe it, Floyd. Keith's buddy out in the Delta knows where to find a man who might know where they are. I want you to trap this wild animal and bring him to New Orleans. That professor was on to somethin'."
    Sweet Boy Floyd nodded and kept eating. A moment later, he stuck a toothpick in his mouth, swiveled it to the other side, and said, "Got me some Delta pussy one time. Wasn't too bad."
    Three teenage girls, two blondes and a brunette, walked over to the table wearing nothing but white, lacy cupped bras and high-cut white panties. Their faces were smooth, no zits or anything. Just wide deer eyes and red-painted lips. Angels smiling painfully as a mean-looking old woman stood behind them pushing them on.
    "Would you gentlemen like a ticket?" the brunette asked with arms crossed over her bare