Fenner walked over to him very quickly and slapped him twice across his mouth. A gun jumped into Nightingale’s hand and he said, “Don’t start anythin’—Don’t start anythin’, please.”
Fenner was surprised they took any notice of Nightingale, but they did. They all froze solid. Even Reiger looked a little sick.
Nightingale said to Fenner, “Come away from him.” His voice had enough menace in it to chill Fenner a trifle. Curly was right. This guy was a killer.
Fenner stepped away from Miller and put his hands in his pockets.
Nightingale said, “I won’t have it. When I bring a friend of mine up here, you treat him right. I’d like to measure some of you heels for a box.”
Fenner laughed. “Ain’t that against etiquette?” he said. “Or do you take it both ways? Bump ’em an’ bury ’em?”
Nightingale put his rod away, and the others relaxed. Reiger said with a little forced smile, “This heat plays hell.” He went over to a cupboard and set up drinks.
Fenner sat down close to Reiger. He thought this one was the meanest of the bunch and he was the one to work on. He said quietly, “This heat even makes me hate myself.”
Reiger looked at him still suspiciously. “Forget it,” he said. “Now you’re here, make yourself at home,”
Fenner rested his nose on the rim of his glass. “Carlos in?” he said.