Wordsmith Holler

Original Pulp Fiction

Category: Tall Tales of Sin

  • Cindy’s Sin – Las Vegas  Stories, Short Stories, Las Vegas Novella

    Cindy’s Sin – Las Vegas Stories, Short Stories, Las Vegas Novella

    Cindy’s Sin is the first Las Vegas novelette in a planned series of short stories called Tall Tales of Sin. You can purchase the entire story on Amazon or Smashwords.

    The novella starts off with Cindy Lash arriving in Las Vegas to avenge the murder of her father. Cindy appears a novice. But she quickly learns some street smarts to carry her through to the end of her revenge plan.

    Cindy Lash came to Las Vegas on the Greyhound Bus. So the first part of the novelette is Greyhound Arriving. If you have ever arrived in Las Vegas in the summer who already know what Cindy feels the moment she gets off the bus; a blast of heat. The hot sun immediately makes her sweat, she gains a couple of guardian angels, sees magic in the Las Vegas neon, and begins her quest.

    She’s in Las Vegas to avenge the death of her father Tommy. But getting to the killer will take a bit of luck, magic, and street smarts. She lacks the street smarts, but her luck may turn out to be her best asset. Luck seems to permeate her time in Las Vegas. And good thing too: she quickly chances fate with a shootout in a popular strip bar.

    short stories

    I feature the Las Vegas neon as a central character allowing the magic of the light to flow through Fremont Street and eventually landing at the Neon Boneyard. It’s hard not to feel the energy coming from Fremont Street and the rest of Las Vegas. Stories about people chancing it all, starting over, or finding luck interest me and I hope the reader.

    This Las Vegas Novella contains mystery, fantasy, magic, and suspense. From the moment Cindy arrives on the bus to her escape on the bus, she meets up with trouble, confusion, hate, and hope. But it all works out in the end with a confrontation at the Neon Boneyard where the neon lights come to her rescue in a dynamic show of lights and smoke.

    This is a fast read for fans of Las Vegas fiction or Las Vegas stories.

    You can find Cindy’s Sin at Amazon, Smashwords, or your favorite bookstore by special order.

    See recent reviews.


    Thoughts on Creative Writing

    This story started as an exercise in learning how to type again. I had a stroke in 2015, which prevented me from driving, walking, writing, reading, and watching television. This happened when I had just turned 52 and set me back emotionally and physically. I honestly thought I would never work or write again.

    After relearning many skills, I took to typing 500 words a day to practice typing. Once I had run out of trivial things to type, I chose to think up a short story. And that is how I started and completed Cindy’s Sin.

    I spent years before my stroke sitting down at the keyboard and dreaming up a story. It was pretty natural to pour out my thoughts and dreams on the screen. After the stroke, I spent a lot of time distracted; my ADD years. I couldn’t focus and keep on task without a list of where I wanted to go with the story.

    That is how I became a plotter. Pantsing is great until you can no longer keep track of what comes next. Plotting allowed me to be more rigid in my writing and stick to a schedule.

    I picked up the software Scrivener soon after my stroke because it allowed my to follow a beat sheet and still jump around as I became excited about a certain beat or idea. The non-linear nature of the software allowed me to write out of order whenever I had a new idea during writing my short stories. Sometimes, I find it is easier to write the ending before I get too wrapped up in the story. Scrivener allows me to do that without losing track of the needed beats.

    I highly encourage writers to consider beta readers and an editor. I have learned many rules of English and still mess up. An editor catches mistakes or points out areas where the story is weak. Beta readers point out areas where a story falls flat, drags, or doesn’t make sense.

    Pick a developmental editor if you are starting out in a genre or have questions about the middle or third-act of a story. Developmental editors point out when a beat is missing or suggest where a story lacks clarity. Proofreaders and grammar editors are important; however, they often find things I can find after a second read. That’s not to say I catch everything. Proofreaders are very important for finding homonyms, British or American English spelling switches, and fragments.

    Due to my circumstances, short stories have been best because they don’t require much concentration and can be written in as little as 50 words or less. Most of my longer stories have been between 1,000 and 6,000 words. My novelettes range around 10,000 words. I am pretty pleased to be able to tell a short story in retrospect. Now, I am working on a few novel ideas and am taking my time.


    My sophomore English teacher told me to go find something else to do because I couldn’t write. In her defense, I did tend to write prose as poetry with a lot of rat-a-tat-tat words as sentences.

    Yet, I ignored her because I didn’t think I could do anything else. I have never stopped writing in one form or another from my days as a television reporter, science writer, and public relations communicator.

    Writing just seems to be a natural fit. I never seem to struggle with writing words. Editing them is another struggle, but writing, just flows. Fiction has been something I have tended to do less of in my adult life, and this is an opportunity to strengthen those writing skills.


    Somebody told me that if you want to be a real writer you have to put it out there for others to read. I heard of a guy who wrote more than 20 novels and never showed them to anyone. They were all neatly stacked in manuscript boxes for his wife to toss out when he died. Who knows if any of them were any good; nobody read them.

    I may bore you, make you laugh at my simplicity, but you will have had an opportunity to read my writing. I sometimes feel like I’m talking to myself. But that’s okay. I’m a good listener.


    The following resources I have found to help me organize my stories and stay focused on story points or character motivations:

    • Character Profile Sheet– I created this tool to help me understand my characters and develop their motivations.
    • Personality Profiles – Characters act and react based on their unique personalities. This sheet provides basic information about 16 key personality types.
    • Story Outline Worksheet – This tool helps you plot a storyline and consider the internal and external conflicts the viewpoint character must face. I used to be a pantser until I reached my limit of second-act story and character implosions. This worksheet helps me keep on track.
    • Plot Denominators – A fast tool to determine the unified action of the story.

    When it comes to Writer’s Block, I believe it is as much about confidence and dedication as anything else. Here is what I found works:

    • Stick to your writing schedule—Unless it’s a real emergency, stick to your writing schedule no matter what.

    • Chose a writing atmosphere—Since writing a book is a creative endeavor, even if you are writing a non-fiction book, consider the environment that will motivate your creative thinking.

    • Outline—If you have even a basic outline, you’ll know where you are heading, so there’s less chance of getting stuck. Writer’s block often comes in the form of not knowing where to go next. Always outline a book even if you plan to pants the plot.

    • Trade tasks—If the words are just nowhere to be found, switch beats. Do another beat for a while and move your writing time around.


    Long ago, I became a news anchor and wrote small, spiffy, stories around 70-words for a living and loved it. Then, I thought I should be a more serious writer and took a job as a science feature writer.

    My editor thought I should deliver her at least 3,500 words. I sat at the computer for a long time trying to convince myself that jumping from 100 words to 3,500 words was a small leap.

    Aged 23

    And, that’s how I became an author.

    I love pulp fiction; short stories of crime, hard-boiled detectives, science fiction, very short fiction stories, and westerns. Many of my stories have science fiction or fantastical events. I like surprise endings. I love Travis McGee. You will find a lot of these elements showing up as I continue to write for this website.

    I have books for fiction and non-fiction books for sale on Amazon, including Cindy’s Sin. I also wrote a serial about a roustabout handyman published on Wattpad.

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – Las Vegas Stories, Short Stories, Las Vegas Novella
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 12

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 12

    The Coin Castle King

    All the discarded neon from the hotels, motels, clubs, and casinos of Las Vegas ended up in the boneyard. Once shiny and bright, signs now waited here to die. Tucked behind a sign company, the boneyard only took visitors by appointment. It made a kitschy place to meet.

    Todd preferred this spot to any other place in Las Vegas. It wrapped up all of the glitter, glamour, and glitz into one place where secrets came to be forgotten.

    Wallace and Cindy found Todd standing beneath the Coin Castle King. The massive statue offered anyone a coin. For years, the king stood on Fremont Street until Todd decided to build his office and turned the casino below into a slots parlor. Nothing in Vegas lasts; the Coin Castle King stood rusting in the boneyard.

    Two men approached Wallace and Cindy. A bigger man with a mustache outstretched his hand. He pulled Wallace closer as they shook hands. The big bodyguard whispered in Wallace’s ear. The man stepped back and waited. Wallace took out his revolver and handed the gun to the man.

    “We’re just here to talk,” Wallace said. He regretted parting with the gun, but it made no sense to start a fight.

    The smaller bodyguard smoothed his hands over Cindy’s leather pants. He found no weapons. Wallace never gave Cindy a gun, a pocketknife, or anything that could be used as a weapon. She even left the rim fire pistol behind.

    She stood behind Wallace and peaked at Todd. A flood of emotions ripped through her and she lunged at him. Todd took a step back and let his bodyguards stop her.

    “Look girl, my fight was never with you,” Todd said. “Me and your dad had a disagreement, but you never came up.”

    (more…)

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 12
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 11

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 11

    Neon Boneyard

    Cindy slept in a grey REO Speedwagon shirt on the overstuffed couch in Wallace’s office. A gauze bandage covered the hole in her arm and she crammed her bare toes into the cushion for comfort. The day had been a lot of trouble.

    Wallace gave her the t-shirt and some jeans from a bag his daughter stashed under his desk. Laying on the couch, Wallace realized how much Cindy reminded him of his girl. She no longer seemed tough; she seemed more like a small child. He thought this over as he studied the Hacienda Horse & Rider sign on Las Vegas Boulevard. At this end of town, the sign seemed out of place far from the neon of the Strip.

    He picked up the phone and waited for the line to connect. He watched tourists walk past his window as he waited. The conversation went right to the point.
    “The girl is here,” Wallace said.
    He listened to the voice in the receiver.
    “We’ll meet you at the boneyard at 9.”
    The line went dead. Wallace studied Cindy in her sleep. She took deep breaths and shook. He rocked back the chair and closed his eyes.

    A few hours went by and the afternoon sun lit up Wallace’s face. He opened his eyes and spotted Cindy watching him. He placed a hand on his forehead and yawned. His nap did not refresh him. Cindy tapped an impatient toe on the linoleum.

    “So, now what?” Cindy asked. Wallace run his hands through his hair. He was unsure how to proceed.
    “Todd will talk with you tonight. But he has his suspicions.”
    Wallace wondered too what Cindy planned to do when she met with Todd. Unless she planned to choke him, murder was out of the question. Earlier he placed her bloodstained dress in his trash and he had not found a gun or a knife. Whatever revenge she planned ruled out a gunfight.

    “What do you plan to do?” Wallace asked.
    “He murdered my daddy and I plan to avenge his death.” Cindy suddenly seemed aware of her lack of resources. The stub nose now seemed inadequate. She feared it. Still, shooting Loudin was an option.
    “I thought you could lend me a gun.”
    “Oh, hell no,” Wallace said. “I will not help you shoot him. I will help you talk, but nothing more.”

    Cindy considered using some charm then dumped the idea. Wallace was now a friend, and she did not want to spoil the feeling. “Besides, I promised no guns, no knifes, no nothing,” Wallace said. “We’re just going to hear his side of the story.”

    Cindy stamped her foot down hard and the lights on the Hacienda sign rolled around. Wallace marked time as the lights slowly dimmed and concluded Cindy had few choices. Still, he wasn’t in the murder game. Cindy crossed her arms and stood beside his chair. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I made a promise to my dad,” Cindy said. “I can’t just let it go.

    Wallace pondered her argument. If Todd had killed her dad, she had a right to even up the score. However, the years had taught him there are many nuances to consider, and he needed to take in Todd’s story.

    “Let’s just go talk,” Wallace said. He still checked the Beretta in his holster to be safe. One thing being a deputy had taught him; it is better to come ready for a fight then to walk into an ambush.

    Cindy hugged his neck and smiled. She would get revenge. All they had to do was meet up with Todd Loudin.

    ~

    Cindy's Sin Available for Kindle

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 11
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 10

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 10

    He Like a Good Steak

    Todd Loudin owned a lot of places and people in Sin City. The people owed him favors; the places owed him nothing. The people sometimes ended up hurt; the places were infamous.

    He liked a good steak and no place proved better than the Silver Steer. Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack ate here, the King of Rock and Roll held court, and Natalie Wood bought her own velvet touch. Todd like to do business in a leather booth next to the restaurant’s decorative bottles of Bordeaux.

    The dinner crowd waltzed in around five, so Todd always started around two. He always ate a petite filet mignon, medium rare with a gorgeous crust, and an extra-dry martini with his head right below Marilyn Monroe’s smile. Sometimes he ate alone or with an occasional partner. Most of the time, dinner was pleasure. Sometimes it was all business. Today Johnny May and Freddie Mite joined him. The first man was an imposing bodyguard on payroll. The second man was a private investigator with news about the robbery at the Glitter Gulch.

    “They cleaned out the till. Got away with maybe a thousand,” Johnny said. “Luckily, Charlie had moved most of the night’s take into the safe.”
    “Took a bullet too,” Freddy said. “They’ve got him over at Valley. Looks like he’s going to live.”
    “The club is a mess. We’re looking at least ten grand to make it right,” Johnny said. “Bullet holes everywhere. Plus, a scorched spot on the floor where Bill burned up.”
    “He always made a statement,” Todd snickered. “How did that happen anyway?”
    “A bullet tore through the fish tank, the lights fell from the ceiling, and old Bill was on the floor,” Freddie said. “He burned up in the fire. The firemen put him out, but half his face is gone.”
    “Closed casket?”
    “Either that or a lot of makeup.”

    A server wearing a black tuxedo filled the water glasses. He readjusted a napkin hanging over his arm and poured the carafe into Todd’s glass. He moved the bread bowl and scraped the crumbs over the linen tablecloth into his waiting hand. The men watched him in silence. The waiter nodded at them and walked back to the kitchen.

    “Excellent service,” Todd said. “They do service right.” The other men nodded in agreement. “Old Vegas through and through.” He continued talking about the morning events.

    “Let’s recap. Charlie’s bummed up, Bill’s burned up, and we need to rebuild the club,” Todd said. “What about Wallace and the girl?”
    “Says she knows you,” Johnny said. “Wallace was eating his eggs. Now, he seems to be helping her.”
    “Helping her do what?” Todd said.
    “Crazy stuff,” Freddie said. “Says her name’s Cindy Lash. She wouldn’t be Tommy’s daughter, would she?”
    Todd thought back twenty years to when Tommy Lash worked as a bodyguard. Johnny placed his fork and knife beside his plate. He leaned back with Freddie waiting for Todd to talk.

    “Tommy’s death was unfortunate,” Todd said. “He was a good soldier who got in over his head. I had nothing to do with it. What does the girl want?”
    “She wants to talk,” Johnny said. “She went to the club looking for you.”
    “Is she connected to the guy who robbed me and killed Bill?” Todd said.
    “He’s a mystery,” Freddie said. “Shot the girl, so I doubt it.”
    “The police picked up Feather,” said Johnnie. “She seemed to be friends with the guy.”
    “So we have nothing” Todd said.
    “Pretty much.” Freddie said.

    Todd studied the two men seated next to him. Johnny wiped his mouth and set the napkin next to his plate. Freddie cut another slice of steak and put it in his mouth. He chewed slowly waiting for Todd to speak. The server poured more water and took Todd’s plate. Behind him, a man began preparing Banana Foster; cutting up the bananas and adding butter to a hot plate. He mixed in brown sugar, rum, and tossed the whole desert into a plate with an added scoop of vanilla ice cream. He set the plate in front of Todd and gave everyone a spoon.

    Todd dipped his spoon in the desert and looked up waiting for the others to join him. Johnnie reached his spoon over while Freddie waved him off. Todd took a drink and let it wash over his tongue.

    “If the guy and the girl aren’t working together, why does she want to see me,” Todd said. “And why is Wallace involved?”
    “Could be a shake down,” Johnnie said.
    “The guy shot the girl with Wallace next to her,” Freddie said.
    “She probably thinks there’s a payday,” Johnnie said.
    “What bothers me is that she’s Tommy Lash’s kid,” Todd said. “He didn’t die too well and she might know our business.”
    “She looks pretty young,” Johnnie said. “I don’t think she’s lived the past.”
    “It’s not the past I’m worried about,” Todd said. “I’m worried about the present.”

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 10
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 9

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 9

    Don’t Give Up Now

    The pain in her arm became intense, but she took some comfort in the news Wallace offered. She might confront the man responsible for her dad’s death. What would she do? The terror began to rise from the pit of her stomach. Was she prepared to kill him? The idea seemed remote until now.

    She had enjoyed thing about how she would take care of Todd. The thinking and plotting revenge made her feel better. Now it looked like she was near the end of the trip.

    She wondered if she should walk back a few steps and explore some other avenues. It pleased her to think about the ways to torture or kill Todd Loudin. The thoughts gave her power. Now she shuddered. Maybe this revenge plotting had made her into an animal too?

    The wheelchair bounced over a crack and sent a shock through her arm that brought her to the present.
    “Why don’t you call Mr. Loudin now?” Cindy said.

    Wallace lifted her out of the chair. She let her headrest on his shoulder as he placed her in the car.
    “It would be that easy,” Wallace said. “But I’ve already arranged to meet him at the neon boneyard.”
    “Won’t people be there?”

    “Doubtful. It’s closed to the public while they build a new visitor center.”
    Cindy smiled at their good luck.

    Wallace put on her seat belt. As he walked around the car, he noticed a man wearing a hoodie watching Cindy. The man turned away to take a baby out of the arms of a woman. Wallace smiled at his paranoia. It was just another dad meeting his family.

    “Too much excitement for one morning,” he whispered.

    The man scrutinized Wallace as he climbed into the car and moved away from the curb. With the car out of sight, the man handed the child back to her startled mother and rushed off in the opposite direction.
    Wallace and Cindy traveled northeast near the rail yard. She rubbed the bandage on her arm and tried not to think about the pain.

    “The shot they gave me wore off.” She reached into her purse for a pain pill. She touched the gun. “Maybe this will help.”

    Wallace drove into an underpass that cut off his neighborhood from downtown and his office north of Fremont Street. He handed Cindy a water bottle, and she swallowed the pill. She smoothed down her blood-soaked top.
    Las Vegas a stopover. A shootout and a trip to the hospital were not in her plans.

    “I think Sarah left some clothes at my office,” Wallace said. “She’s about your size.”
    “A girlfriend?”
    “My daughter. She’s studying hospitality and about your age.”

    Cindy pondered if Wallace gave in to his daughter or laid down the law. He had a strong face. However, Cindy thought he showed a soft heart. He looked after her and arranged a meeting with the man who killed her daddy. That alone made him a good man.

    “I don’t know what I’d say,” Cindy said.
    “To Sarah?”
    “No, to Mr. Loudin,” Cindy said. “Do I come out and ask if he killed my daddy?”

    Wallace shot her a look. So that was it? Instead of coming to town to dance, Cindy came in this morning to confront Todd. This little girl thought she could stare him down and he would just admit he was a killer. Wallace had one thing right; Cindy was naïve.

    “Listen, Todd Loudin will never do that. He’s only meeting you as a favor to me. Besides, he’s not the big mastermind you have built up in your mind. He’s a businessman,” Wallace said. He doubted she believed him.
    Cindy touched his arm. “I know he will confess and you will help me.”

    “Listen girl, your charms and sweet smile may win over boys your age, but Todd is not a boy,” Wallace said. “Do you really think you can make it work?”

    Wallace parked in front of his office. Cindy watched as he walked around the car to her door.
    “I believe what I’ve been told. And Todd Loudin’s a killer,” she said.

    Wallace let her walk into his office on her own. Enough crazy filled the morning to last him a week. Still the girl needed him. He would have to see this through.

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 9
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 8

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 8

    Cranberry Juice

    The emergency room at the county hospital seemed too busy for a Tuesday morning. Tucked in every corner sat screaming babies with frantic mothers, homeless suffering from the heat, foreigners nursing hangovers, and Cindy with a gunshot in her arm.

    She sat in the middle of a bed pushed into the hallway with her legs dangling over the edge. A gauze pad with a red circle of blood covered her arm. This part of the adventure she could have done without.
    “All I found was cranberry juice,” Wallace said. He snuck up on Cindy as if she might hit him.

    “Thanks.” Cindy refused to look at him. She put the bottle on her head and let the cold penetrate her headache. Wallace placed a towel on her neck.

    Wallace felt sick. The shootout left a man dead, a hurt friend, and most of all, the end of a good place to stop for breakfast. This girl almost died. So close to the age of his youngest daughter. What a mess.

    “This will be just a moment more,” a nurse said. “Can I get you anything?”

    Cindy opened the bottle and took a sip. “Just let me go.”
    “In due time, dear,” said the nurse.

    “I just don’t understand how you could do hand the book over like that,” Cindy said. The nurse spun to answer and Wallace waved her on. “You just put the book in his hand.” Wallace nodded. He had handed over the book to Loudin’s bodyguard. After everything, the decision seemed prudent.

    “You live through enough of these shootouts and you learn to live another day,” Wallace said. The answer sounded stupid and Cindy did not like it. The stranger probably would have killed her. Then again, he might have walked away. Either way, the whole mess stunk. “It’s just,” Cindy tailed off.

    Her true nature showed through the facade of a strong girl. Deep down she feared the future. Her aunt in Salt Lake was all she had left. Her father shot dead. Her mother dead of a broken heart. She yearned to secure a better history. She wanted their lives to stand for something. She broke down and cried. Wallace wrapped his big hand on her good shoulder. Cindy rested on his arm.

    “My dad always looked out for me.” Cindy wiped her eyes. “Even when we had nothing, he took care of me.” Cindy held back tears. Wallace patted her shoulder.

    “The last thing he said was find Todd Loudin,” Cindy said. “But I was eight and my mother fell apart. She shut down. Our whole family died that day.”

    The nurse rounded the corner. She stopped at Cindy’s bed and began unlocking the wheels.

    “We will head over to x-ray and then a few stitches,” she said. “You can stay here. Won’t be too long.”
    The nurse pointed Wallace to the waiting room. She wheeled Cindy through the doors and they disappeared around the corner.

    To find Todd, Wallace did not need the book. He already knew how to call the man.

    He wondered what Cindy planned to do. Was she looking for a job? If she planned to dance at the strip club, she missed that boat. The Glitter Gulch needed months of repair. Did Todd have something that belonged to her dad?

    He pondered the situation. Cindy let on she needed to talk to Todd about her dad. Did she want revenge? It seemed one possibility. All together Wallace didn’t think Cindy could pull it off.

    He reached into his jacket for his phone. A wad of bills, a pen, and a couple receipts fell out. He stuffed them back in his pocket. He dialed a number and waited.

    “Sam, in two hours meet me at the neon boneyard,” Wallace told his associate. He snapped the phone shut as Cindy rode out into the waiting area.

    “Sorry I took so long,” said the nurse. “She’s all sewed up and ready to go.” The nurse patted Cindy’s hand.  “You must rest dear.” Cindy nodded and smiled.

    “Thank you for waiting,” Cindy said. “I guess you can drop me off.”
    “Where will you go?”
    “The bus station,” she said. “I’m off to my aunt in Utah. I don’t like it here.”
    “Do you have to go right away?” Cindy wondered why Wallace wanted to keep her in Las Vegas.
    “I can arrange a meeting with Mr. Loudin.”

    Cindy sat in the wheelchair and cried. She then jumped out of the chair and hugged Wallace on the neck. He touched her arm and she starting to cry again. Wallace brushed away a tear as a flash of light bounced off the doorway. Cindy stared at the light as Wallace put away his handkerchief.

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 8
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 7

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 7

    Paramedics wheeled Charlie out of the club through the mess of wires, broken glass, and water. A medic taped gauze on Cindy’s arm where a bullet broke the skin leaving a bleeding gash. Cuts and scratches covered her legs. “He’s going to live,” Wallace said. “How he didn’t die is anybody’s guess.”

    How they all survived, nobody could tell. A flash of gunpowder played again in Cindy’s mind as the bullet sent a cascade of water over Bill’s head. Then the bullet came toward her and she froze in fear. The bullet threw up bits of cushion and wood behind her. She thought it had missed. However, a shock wave climbed her arm, and she found the bullet had hit her.

    “You’ll need stitches,” a medic said. “I still can’t believe the gunfight happened,” Cindy said. “I might have died.” Cindy smoothed out her dress and tried to cover up her scratches. “I’ll wrap those too.”

    The medic squirted out some cream and moved his fingers over the cuts. His cold hands sent another shock through Cindy. She shivered. He paused. She waved him on and closed her eyes. On this trip, she planned to find the man responsible for her dad’s death, kill him, and escape the desert. Instead, she landed in a shootout and a robbery.

    This pickle couldn’t taste any sourer. Cindy sighed. She had two choices; either give up or figure this out. Walking away took little effort. Staying until she finished the job meant starting over. The whole thing seemed too much to think about.

    Cindy opened her eyes. The club appeared a mess. Tubes of neon glass littered the stage and a blanket lay over Bill’s body. Cindy spotted his right hand before a guy in white coveralls covered all of Bill.

    A ruby ring went around Bill’s thumb. She wondered why she had not picked it out before. She then thought about the leather book and realized Wallace must have hidden the book in his jacket.

    The medic finished her legs. “We should take you to the hospital,” he said. Cindy tried to stand but fell backward into the seat.

    “I think I need to rest more.” Cindy felt faint. She forced a smile. The medic touched her arm. “Let me go get a wheelchair.” He rushed off leaving Cindy alone.

    Wallace and another man stood in the far corner talking. The stranger was bigger than Wallace and wore a black suit that looked tailored. Cindy saw the outline of a revolver hanging beneath his jacket. He poked Wallace on the chest with a big index finger. The man glowered straight into Wallace’s face.

    Wallace turned toward Cindy. He smiled and rolled his eyes. He turned back to the man and moved his arm away. The stranger stepped back waving both hands behind him. Wallace reached into his jacket and handed the man the black book. Cindy jumped forward. He was handing over the key to her world.

    The stranger smiled and placed the book into his jacket. He put out his hand and Wallace gave it a firm shake. The man turned and went out the back door.

    “Your traitor?” Cindy screamed.

    Wallace focused on her face until the medic returned with her wheelchair. She slid into the chair and sat fuming. “That was Loudin’s bodyguard,” Wallace said. “And he wanted the book.”

    Cindy knew Wallace would help her find Todd Loudin, but she said it anyway. “It doesn’t matter,” she shouted. “I will find Mr. Loudin with or without you.”

    amwriting

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 7
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 6

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 6

    Todd Loudin heard the shots below his office. They sounded close. He cocked his head to listen. Two more shots and screaming. He rushed to the window.

    A man dressed in all black ran away from the Glitter Gulch. Behind him, a half-dressed girl flailed on the ground with a hole in her leg. Another girl wearing only a bikini tried to help her. Green bills blew out of a broken grocery bag. A couple bills stuck to the girl’s bloody leg.

    A man in a Hawaiian shirt, a straw fedora, and blue slippers held up his hands. A woman screamed and covered her hair. Todd chuckled. Imagine the sensation back home if she lost both her money and her head in Las Vegas.

    Behind the man in black, a revolver spun around in one hand as a small duffel bag followed behind in the other. Todd leaned out the window and followed the stranger’s run.

    The man crossed into the alley with the duffel flying behind him. Thin orange neon roped down the outside of the Golden Gate Hotel pointing to the alley. Todd took in the commotion and fear.

    He looked away from the spectacle across the varnished room. He locked eyes on his bodyguard standing watch near a large wooden door. The bodyguard nodded. He secured his gun, turned, and left the room.
    “Well boys,” Todd laughed. “All in a day’s work.”

    He plopped down behind a desk of polished marble and leather. Todd pulled out a cigar from his jacket, cut off the end, drew it up to his mouth, and licked the end. He reached into a drawer behind him for a match. Lighting the cigar, he settled in for a smoke.

    “I think a guy just robbed your place,” said a bookish man wearing a blue tie. He punched the sentence with a loud laugh. Two other men fidgeted and motioned for him to be quiet. The man shrugged through a nervous laugh. Todd leaned into the three men seated in front of him.

    “I doubt he will get far.” He punched the desk with his cigar end. He brought it back to his mouth. The bookish man stared straight ahead as Todd chewed on the cigar.

    A wailing siren broke the tension. Two black and whites jumped over the sidewalk cutting through a line of tourists. Each police car stopped away from the strip club.

    Todd looked out the window again. The bookish man tightened his tie around his neck and swallowed some dust. The other two men repeated their hand gestures. He shrugged in resignation.

    Two police officers found Feather crying with a ripped bag of money and a gunshot in her leg. They hunched behind their car doors shouting for her to give up. Two other officers stood off to the side. Feather pulled herself around and reached into the bag. The officers jumped back.

    She held up a handful of cash. Dark purple blood mixed with the green cash. The man in the straw fedora dropped to the ground. Other tourists ran into a casino. Feather cried on the sidewalk holding up the crumpled mess.

    An officer stood up from behind his car door. “We have you,” he shouted. “Just give up.” He aimed his weapon at her. The other officers circled her.

    Feather sat frozen with one hand reaching and the other covering her thigh. She lowered her head and let out a whimper. A bloody dollar bill blew across Fremont toward the man in the fedora. He scooped it up, wiped away the blood, and stuck it in his pocket.

    Two officers tackled Feather, and she kicked her feet under their weight. Two others walked inside the Glitter Gulch at a slow pace.

    Todd surveyed the cacophony under the canopy. He surveyed the girl, the money, and the arrest. He turned to the three men.

    “Someone should wash that blood off the sidewalk,” he said. “It’s bad for business.”
    The three men stared straight ahead. They could only imagine the scene below. “Gentlemen,” Todd said. “I don’t even know why we’re here.”

    The bookish man in the blue tie jumped up and started to talk.
    “We have a quick proposal.”

    One of Todd’s bodyguards grabbed him at the shoulders. His shoes scuffed along the floor as he danced out the large wooden door. “I can’t help you today,” Todd shouted.

    The other men rushed to help their friend and tried to keep him from shouting back at Todd. He waved them off and turned back to the Glitter Gulch.

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    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 6
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 5

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 5

    A man dressed in black shifted his weight in the far booth with the girls. Feather hung on him like a white dishcloth and her breasts touched his shirt. She patted his arm when he laughed. The man chewed on a swizzle stick and a baseball hat hung low over his forehead. Cindy noted the corner of his eye when he smiled at Feather. “They seem full of energy,” Cindy said.

    Bill looked behind him. “The night always brings out the happy.” He turned around and eyed Cindy.

    “Who’s the guy?” she asked. Cindy thought the stranger seemed out of place. “Money can make you happy. Dreams can make you happy,” Bill said. “And we have enough of both to make you almost giddy.” He patted Cindy’s hand. Bill ignored her question.

    “You could use some happy, right?” Bill aimed to sign up the girl before the party started again. He smiled a wide grin. Cindy looked behind him to the far corner of the bar. Wallace followed her gaze.

    “Likely a guy who figures he might go home with Feather,” Wallace said. Bill twisted his head. “Why don’t you all go home now,” he shouted.

    The laughter stopped and Feather fidgeted. The stranger leaned forward and Feather let go his arm.
    “Go on. Go home,” Bill said.

    The dancers slid across the booth and rolled out onto the floor. Feather leaned down to the seated stranger, stuck out her tongue, and touched his lips. She twirled around pulling her G-string into her crack. She and the other girl marched off to the backstage.

    Only Cindy saw the dancers leave. Wallace looked down at his hands and Bill continued to grin. Cindy watched the stranger slide further back into the dark. He spit out the straw. She followed the eye until it blinked into the dark.

    Bill waited for Cindy to answer and Wallace looked tired. Cindy smiled and reached for Bill’s leather book. “Can you give me Mr. Loudin’s number now?” She expected Bill would open the book and flip to the number. Instead, he dropped his hand down fast covering the book.

    “I think you already know how to reach Todd,” Dupree said. He sat taller in his seat. Wallace leaned away from him. “I think he sent you down here to test me.”

    She felt the blood leave her face and her bottom lip trembled. “Honestly, I never met Mr. Loudin,” Cindy stuttered. “I just want to learn more about my dad.”

    Bill leaned in to the girl. “If Todd thinks I will fall for this trick,” he paused. “He’s got another thing coming.”

    The smile on his face faded into a snarl. Cindy flinched back into her seat. Bill’s teeth moved toward her and she froze. The menacing grin grew closer, but she did not feel fear from them. Behind the teeth, the stranger moved closer holding a big, black gun.

    A red flash spilled aquarium water over Bill’s head. The black gun flashed two more times. A second bullet smashed the glass and the entire aquarium spilled out over Bill and Wallace.

    The detective pulled up a 38-special from his holster. Bill jumped away from the booth and slipped in the water as a light exploded and fell next to him. Sparks jumped off the floor and Bill convulsed.

    Wallace pumped two shots behind him and the stranger jumped over the bar. Charlie stood motionless with a glass in one hand and a dirty rag in the other. A flash of white shattered the mirror behind him. Charlie jumped over the bar and pulled his leg onto the stage. Cindy could hear him crying in pain.

    “Get up off the floor and stand on the seat,” Wallace shouted. “Those sparks will kill you.” Cindy scrambled up onto the seat. She pushed her dress down and pulled her legs in.

    “Grab the cash and let’s get out of here,” the stranger shouted. Feather looked for the money. The stranger stood at the front of the bar with Feather and the other dancer behind him. Feather reached over the bar for the money bag. The other dancer reached into the till and took out the bills.

    Wallace pointed his gun at the stranger. The man pointed his gun back. “You don’t want a fight,” the stranger said.

    The stranger ran down the stage with the dancers following him. He turned toward Wallace as he reached Bill’s body on the floor. Sparks continued to leap out of the water.

    Wallace hunched down between his seat and the roof of the booth. His arm reached out far away from his body as the small space doubled him over. He lacked the advantage to hit the man.

    “I swear I will shoot you,” Wallace said. The stranger pointed the gun at Cindy. She stood bent in the seat, cringed, and waited for the gun to fire. Wallace looked at Cindy and back at the stranger. The stranger continued to look at Cindy.

    Wallace looked back at the girl. He recognized fear. “Like my daughter,” he whispered.

    Wallace let go of his aim, let the gun spin to the table, and dropped it. The gun rested next to the leather book.
    The stranger and the two dancers sprinted out the door onto Fremont Street.

    Charlie let out a scream. Cindy grabbed for the book but missed it. Wallace jumped onto the stage and ran to the back of the bar with the book and the gun in his hand. She aimed her right leg at the floor as a spark jumped up. She slammed back into the booth.

    She looked around the club. Wallace reached for the bartender. Cindy rolled over the table to the other seat and pulled herself up. She crawled the line of booths until she reached Wallace and Charlie.

    “He needs an ambulance,” Wallace said. Charlie lay wedged between the seat and the stripper pole. Blood pooled around a hole in his left leg. Wallace reached over the bar and returned with a towel. He placed it on the bloody mess and Charlie winced.

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    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 5
  • Cindy's Sin - A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 4

    Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 4

    Cindy counted the number of bubbles rising from the bottom of the aquarium behind Bill’s head. A black and white fish floated through the bubbles followed by a yellow and blue. The black and white was missing an eye. Otherwise, each fish looked happy to be swimming in a strip club.

    “You should add a clown fish.” Bill looked over at her. “Like Finding Nemo.”

    “You are an odd,” Bill paused. “No, make that a pretty, odd girl.”

    Bill filed away the question about Todd L. for the moment. It could wait. What he needed right now was a fresh dancer. He leaned around the aquarium and looked down the length of the runway. He shouted at the girls finishing breakfast.

    “Feather. Get up here and dance.” Bill pointed to the stage. “Charlie, drop the lights and turn on some music.”
    Feather looked down the stage. A second girl pointed with both hands toward where Bill was sitting with Cindy. Feather huffed and slid across the padded seat.

    “Move it!” shouted Bill. “Charlie. Lights and Music.” Bill pointed at the controls.

    Charlie put down a glass as Feather swung up on stage and stepped over to the DJ booth. Charlie lowered the lights, powered up the strobes, and started the music.

    A slow, grinding, boom blasted into the room. The big man in the far corner put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. Feather danced down the length of the stage toward the booth where Bill and Cindy were sitting.

    “It’s easy,” Bill said. He swayed back and forth in the booth as Feather danced. “You just bounce to the music.”
    Feather reached a stripper pole and pulled herself around, dipping her head to the runway, and sliding the length of the pole. At the bottom, Feather twisted around and started toward Cindy. As she got closer, Bill pulled a dollar bill out of his vest pocket. Feather rocked her bottom toward Bill who slipped the dollar into her G-string.

    Bill turned to Cindy. “See, easy money.”

    “It may be easy,” Cindy said. “But I won’t be here too long.”

    “They all say that kid.” Bill laughed. “And yet, here we are.”

    Wallace Jackson eyed Feather as she danced near Bill and the girl. Sizing Cindy up, she reminded him of his daughter: too naïve to know what is good for her, and yet convinced she can do anything.

    Once a casino detective, Wallace now worked late on his own and usually stopped in for breakfast. It was the one place no one would think to grab a plate of eggs. The Glitter Gulch offered a working man solitude and a place to think. Bill noticed Wallace sitting at the back of the room. “You planning to hide back there?” he asked, motioning for the big man to join him.

    Wallace stood up and adjusted his shoulder holster. From his jacket, he pulled out a roll of money and peeled out a twenty. “Thanks Charlie. Not too runny and the bacon perfectly crisp.” He handed over the money.
    Charlie nodded and went back to washing the dishes. He understood he could keep the change.

    “Wallace here is a decorated Texas Ranger,” said Bill coyly. He tipped an imaginary hat at the big man. “The first black Ranger in Texas, in fact,” he boasted. “I was never a Ranger, miss,” said Stony. “Bill gets things wrong sometimes.” He leaned closer to Cindy’s face as if he planned to whisper in her ear.

    “What he meant to say, I suppose, was I proudly served as the first black deputy sheriff in Palmer County, Texas.” He emphasized Palmer County in a Texas drawl.

    Wallace stretched out a big hand and backed away from the girl. Cindy took a hold of his big hand. It was soft as a deerskin glove. He shook her small hand and adjusted his cowboy hat. His head nearly touched the top of the enclosed booth.

    “What brings you to this sideshow, miss?” he asked, looking around the room. Feather was slowly slinking back down the runway. “I have big plans for my new girlfriend,” said Bill. He slid over to give Wallace a seat. Cindy moved away. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

    “If you’re not his girlfriend, what brings you here?” Wallace half expected to know the answer before she spoke.

    “Just passing through on my way home. I thought I’d see a few sights.”

    Wallace figured she would say she was broke, needed a job, and could make good money here. He took another look at Cindy. On second thought, she looked smarter than that and seemed to be hiding another reason. He smiled. She didn’t look like the wasted dancer type.

    “Says she’s looking for Todd Loudin,” said Bill. Cindy coughed juice back into the glass. The cocky jerk had just given her Todd Loudin’s name. She pretended the juice made her choke. Bill tapped on his leather book and smiled at Cindy.

    “Does she now?” said Wallace. “Why would she be looking for trouble?”

    Bill and Wallace waited for an answer. Bill wondered what she knew about Todd. “I’m not looking for any trouble,” Cindy said shyly. “I thought Mr. Loudin might have known my dad when he was alive.”

    Read more: Cindy’s Sin – A Las Vegas Story: Cindy’s Sin – Chapter 4