Victims

The heavy aroma of honeysuckle saturated the air surrounding the sidewalk café and lingered in Ellis Carver's nostrils like residual sin--guilty remnants of illicit pleasures. It reminded him of Savannah Hodges, not just because he was looking at her, but because her presence naturally incited his desire to sin. She did that to a lot of men, but some of them didn't have the good sense to resist their nature and avoid succumbing to inevitable disaster. Maybe an excess of youth led some men down that road to destruction. Paying for pleasure was a turn-off for Ellis Carver and left him immune to her poison.

"Hello, Ellis." She put her hand on his knee as she sat beside him.

"I got two children and a wife ten years younger than me," he said. "Take your hand off my goddamned leg."

"You don't have to be so disagreeable, Ellis," she pouted. "Buy me a drink."

"What do I get for it?" He asked.

"What do you want?" She teased with an enticing flutter of her eyelids that would have melted most men.

"Who's Jake Boney screwing these days?"

"What do you think I am, The National Enquirer?"

"You could be. Think of me as a subscriber." He slid a fifty-dollar bill toward her.

"Now you talking," she grinned. "The word is, he's joined the youth movement. He's got some little young thing, looks like she's nineteen or twenty--all tits and ass."

"Kinda like you used to be," Ellis laughed.

"Kiss my ass, Ellis," she retorted in a flash of genuine anger.
Savannah was only about thirty, but women like her were victimized by the march of time more than everyone else. Her physical attributes had always determined the level of her success, but the pain in her life caused them to wane. Ellis understood: life on the streets inflicted its share of pain on policemen as well. Like Savannah, he was one of the walking wounded, but unlike her, he took pride in his scars.

"Where did he get her?" Ellis asked directing her focus towards his interests.

"I don't know. Central America, South America. I hear she can't speak English."

"She doesn't have to if she can do the nasty good enough, right?"

"I guess," she laughed. "That's usually the way it works."

"Where's he hanging out these days?"

"Why you looking for him?"

"Who's paying who?" Ellis asked pointedly.