Small Crimes

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they don't like it - I've already lost three of them
because of this.' He leaned even closer to me. 'The last few months I've been
talking with some of my biker buddies. I'm thinking of standing up to that punk.'
    He
gave me a weak shrug as he leaned back and lowered his gaze. 'But I'm not sure
I want to go to war right now. Probably better to sell the place and move on.
Of course, that punk is only offering me a tenth of what Kelley's is worth.
I'll tell you, man, my pop would be rolling over in his grave if he saw what
was happening.'
    'I'd
stand up to him if I were you,' I said.
    'You
would, huh?'
    I
took a long drink, finishing off the ale. 'Yeah, I would,' I said. 'I know the
sheriff s office isn't too thrilled with Junior right now. I think they'd back
you up on it. I think there are a lot of people around here who'd like to see
Junior disappear.'
    Earl
thought it over, and as he did, he showed me a weak smile. 'Man, you're
probably right. I don't know. I'd probably just end up seeing my place torched
and some of my girls hurt. What sucks is if I sell out to that punk, he'll just
drive Kelley's into the ground. My girls wouldn't stand for him.'
    'Maybe
you should try holding out for a while. Things might change.'
    'Nothing's
going to fucking change,' he spat out bitterly. 'I'm not the only one he's
squeezing out. That punk's pulling the same shit with a bunch of college clubs.
One of them has already sold out. He now owns the Blue Horn out in Eastfield.
From what I hear he only paid twenty thou for it.'
    'That's
probably just Junior bragging.'
    'No.'
Earl shook his head, his eyes cold blue steel. 'I heard that straight from the
guy who used to own it. He was lucky he could talk with the way he'd been
worked over.'
    'Why
would Junior want to own a college club?'
    'Because
he's a greedy fucker. That's all there is to it, man. And it's not just one. As
I was saying, he's squeezing a bunch of them.'
    Earl
noticed my bottle was empty and replaced it. I lifted my ale towards him. 'Well,
anyway,' I said,' here's to better days.'
    Earl
nodded. I hear you, man.'
    We
sat and bullshitted for a while longer before I moved to one of the tables
facing the stage. There was a thin redhead who had taken her T-shirt off and
was dancing topless to Creedence's 'Bad Moon Rising'. As I watched her, I found
my mind wandering. I was too preoccupied wondering what interest Junior had in
college clubs to pay much attention to her. It didn't seem to be in Junior's
character to want to own legitimate businesses. Clubs like the Blue Horn are
nothing more than hangouts for college kids. They'll bring in a band, charge
cover, and sell food and soft drinks. Most of these clubs don't have liquor
licenses. None of them makes much money. It didn't seem to be something that
would be worth Junior's trouble. After a while I decided to give up worrying
about it.
    'Bad
Moon Rising' ended and the redhead walked around the stage to let guys slip
dollar bills in her G-string. She had nice green eyes and a sweet smile. She also
didn't look much older than eighteen. Even with her mostly naked, I couldn't
help thinking she seemed more like a high school cheerleader than a stripper.
The DJ announced, 'Susie Q for our own little Susie,' and the Creedence song by
the same name started. The redhead, Susie, slipped off her G-string and started
moving rhythmically to the music. I noticed a ratty-looking guy with a thick
mustache staring at her intently. He had kind of a slight to medium build, but
was wearing a muscle shirt and was trying to puff himself out. Every time
someone would slip a dollar bill under her garter, the muscles along his jaw
would bulge. One guy let his hand linger a little too long on her thigh and
Muscle-shirt started to push himself out of his chair, his body tense and his
eyes filled with violence. The hand was removed, and Muscle-shirt, with what
looked like a great deal of effort, forced himself back down, his eyes still
seething.
    When
the song

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