XVIIIPam broke. Did she have something better to do than shoot pool with her EMT partner? No. She sunk not one but two solids went in. “Damn.” Benson stood against the wall under a beer sign, leaning on his pool cue. “How in hell did you do that?” Was all the befuddled man could say.
“I’m good.” The Pocket skirted the line between clean and dirty. A few people shot darts. Three of the four pool tables were now in use. They were not the only EMTs, firemen or policemen in the bar. It was a hangout. It was a fun place to shoot pool.
Tyler scratched. “Paul Newman you ain’t.” The big man laughed out loud. The small woman gave him a blank stare. “The guy who taught Tom Cruise to shoot pool.”
Recognition dawned slowly. “Oh,” Pam said slowly. He got the cue ball and knocked in a stripe. “Not ba
