P.J. Morse - Clancy Parker 02 - Exile on Slain Street by P.J. Morse Page B

time!”
    “You mean your 15 minutes?” Kevin asked, looking at his watch. “Well, you are on minute 14, plus 30 seconds, and it is time to leave.”
    “I’ll do anything to stay!” Stacy screamed, shaking her head so hard that one of her extensions fell out. “Anything! This is my shot!”
    “You blew your shot,” Kevin said. “You were unconscious ninety percent of the time. C’mon, tell me what you did in the past hour. Do you remember?” Then he tilted his head in Wolf’s direction. I realized that Patrick had completely disappeared from the scene.
    Wolf folded his arms across his chest and advanced toward Stacy. “I told you not to upset the rooster when he is in the garden.”
    Stacy didn’t give a rat’s ass about roosters or gardens. “Do you see how I’m dressed?” Stacy asked, pointing to her boobs. “I broke out all the big guns!”
    Wolf kept moving toward her, his face stony.
    “Look at my sexuality! I ooze sexuality!”
    The word “ooze” made Wolf stop. He frowned and told her, “You should think before you speak.”
    As soon as Wolf got close enough to touch her, Stacy slipped off her shoes and ran for the pool.
    “Stop!” Kevin barked.
    Stacy kept wailing and tugging off her dress. The hot-pink spandex tube crumpled up like a deflated balloon, her flask clattered to the ground, and she dove naked into the pool.
    At first, I thought Stacy might swim through the pool and run off into the woods. Once she surfaced in the water, however, she panicked. None of the women had entered the pool that night, and it must have been deeper than she expected. She splashed around and went under, disappearing for a moment.
    Recognizing the liability issues, Kevin ran up, but he stopped about a foot away. “No, no. Not getting in that. Can someone get this woman, please? I can’t swim!”
    Some water splashed up into his face, and he immediately flicked it off. He saw me looking at him and just said, “What can I say? I’m like a cat. Wolf! Fix this!”
    Wolf was the right man for the job. He stepped into the pool on the shallow end and just started walking toward the middle. He kept walking in his determined fashion as the water crept over his chin, mouth, nose, eyes, and forehead, until his head was completely under water. Stacy’s flailing stopped suddenly. The water became still. I was worried he might have injured her under there or applied some sort of Grunge Rock Death Grip.
    Then Wolf walked out of the pool the same way he came in, with Stacy’s naked body limply draped over his shoulder. The entire time, the expression on his face did not change. His job was to protect his cousin from any danger, distraction, or annoyance. But I could also see why Kevin hired me. With all the random contestant freak-outs, Wolf was going to have his hands so full that he couldn’t keep an eye on someone sneaky enough to sabotage a stripper pole.
    Cookie gazed at Wolf and said one single word. “Badass!”
    Wolf threw Stacy on a hammock and tossed a canvas tarp over her. He mused, “When the ball is lost in the tall grass, it must learn to roll on its own.” I wasn’t sure if Stacy was going to roll herself out of there, but I had to agree with him about the lost ball part.
    Kevin stepped up. “Somebody towel her off and take her to the Travelodge. Now, anyone else who didn’t get a locket, follow me! We’re getting your luggage!” He began rotating his arm like a windmill as he moved toward the front door.
    The remainder of the Inebriated Triple-Headed Hydra and a few of the quieter women trailed along obediently. If they had tried to make a break for it, Wolf would have put a swift stop to it. As a bonus, he would have also thrown in a Zen koan.
    With Patrick gone and the rest of the crew busy, the remaining contestants were at a loss. Andi returned to the bar and poured herself another glass of peppermint Schnapps, but I was exhausted. Cookie, Dawn, and I followed some of the crew to the front