Chapter Fifteen
It was cold and Mandal had her faded blue Levi horse jacket with the lamb collar pressed against her long neck. On her hands were her worn leather gloves and as she pressed the button slotted into the wall next to the heavy iron door, her eyes jerked, staring across the street.
Staring at her were three, young African American males. Two of them, were the young black men she had seen at the café. In a very bad part of N. Las Vegas the gangs ruled, mostly the MS-13’s, as well as others and though her club was also screwed into a tough part of the city, she felt a little nervous, being on the streets so late.
Crinkling her brow, she thought that she recognized two of the boys as the ones that had been sitting with the poet earlier that night at Mal’s café. Looking at her o
