amigo.”
“Usually.”
“So we’re reversing roles.”
I shrugged my shoulders. A Cadillac Escalade entered the highway, and James slowed down to let it ease into traffic. Before he died, James’s father dreamed of driving a Cadillac, and James always showed a lot of respect for any of their vehicles. He swore he’d own a Cadillac or two or three before he was thirty.
“What sparked this moment of adventure?”
I had the answer ready for him. “Greed.”
My partner was quiet for a minute, maybe two. He never took his eyes off the road as we hit highway 95 and cruised along, past the concrete and stucco buildings, the myriad entrances and exits, the cement walls that rose on the side of the highway, sheltering the residential communities from the noise of traffic.
Finally I had to speak. “I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry. I mean, we’re not married, man. And even married couples don’t share everything.”
He didn’t say a word.
“All right. Here’s the rest of the story.”
James glanced at me, his eyes wide and bright. My buddy from fourth grade. My best friend. Ready for another quest. I needed him. Right now. “I had a meeting with Carol Conroy this afternoon.”
“What?”
“Sandler Conroy’s wife.”
“Oh, man, you didn’t tell her about—”
“Never came up.”
“Then pray tell, what was this meeting about?”
“She wants to hire me.”
“Skip, you’re already hired. You’ve got two jobs at Synco Systems. Setting up the security system and pretending to be Sarah’s boyfriend. I mean, what the hell else is there?”
“I accepted a third position.”
“Pard! What are you doing?”
And I told him. I told him how Carol Conroy thought that Walters’s death may not have been suicide. I told him about Tony Quatman and his secretary. I told him that she didn’t feel close to her father, and she didn’t seem to care about her husband. Actually said that she didn’t give a rat’s ass about Sandler Conroy. And finally I told him that Mrs. Conroy thought she might be in line to be murdered.
We swung off the highway by the Miami Dolphin stadium and headed to our apartment complex.
“You still haven’t told me how much.”
“After all that, and you want to know how much? Aren’t you worried about a woman who thinks she’s going to be murdered?”
James tossed his cigarette out the window, the sparks scatteringbrightly in the air. “Maybe I should be more worried that she trusts you to prevent the murder. I’m not sure I’d even trust you when it comes to that.”
“I told you. I may have gone too far.”
“How much?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Have you noticed that I have no idea what I’m looking for? She didn’t give me a clue what I should expect.”
He was quiet again.
“Okay. She didn’t give me a clue as to what we should expect.”
James gave me a wry smile. “Whatever the lady wants us to look for, that’s what we’ll look for. It sounds like she’s going to make it up as she goes.”
“I had my first assignment today.”
“You’re just gung-ho about making all this money, compadre. I’m proud of you.”
“James, someone was messing around with her Lexus.”
“Lexus?” His eyes were bright. The fact that someone was messing around wasn’t important. The fact that the lady owned an expensive luxury car—well—
“Lexus. It looked like maybe he was doing something to the tires.”
“And?”
“I tried to chase him down, but somebody picked him up in a Honda Civic.”
“What did he look like?”
“Short, Asian, maybe in his thirties, but I didn’t get that close.”
“Skip?”
“What?”
“How much?”
“James, I’m not sure this is a good idea. Something else I didn’t mention.”
My partner shook his head. “How much have you kept from me, amigo? If you don’t want me involved, just say so.”
“Quit feeling sorry for yourself. I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”
“So
“Usually.”
“So we’re reversing roles.”
I shrugged my shoulders. A Cadillac Escalade entered the highway, and James slowed down to let it ease into traffic. Before he died, James’s father dreamed of driving a Cadillac, and James always showed a lot of respect for any of their vehicles. He swore he’d own a Cadillac or two or three before he was thirty.
“What sparked this moment of adventure?”
I had the answer ready for him. “Greed.”
My partner was quiet for a minute, maybe two. He never took his eyes off the road as we hit highway 95 and cruised along, past the concrete and stucco buildings, the myriad entrances and exits, the cement walls that rose on the side of the highway, sheltering the residential communities from the noise of traffic.
Finally I had to speak. “I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry. I mean, we’re not married, man. And even married couples don’t share everything.”
He didn’t say a word.
“All right. Here’s the rest of the story.”
James glanced at me, his eyes wide and bright. My buddy from fourth grade. My best friend. Ready for another quest. I needed him. Right now. “I had a meeting with Carol Conroy this afternoon.”
“What?”
“Sandler Conroy’s wife.”
“Oh, man, you didn’t tell her about—”
“Never came up.”
“Then pray tell, what was this meeting about?”
“She wants to hire me.”
“Skip, you’re already hired. You’ve got two jobs at Synco Systems. Setting up the security system and pretending to be Sarah’s boyfriend. I mean, what the hell else is there?”
“I accepted a third position.”
“Pard! What are you doing?”
And I told him. I told him how Carol Conroy thought that Walters’s death may not have been suicide. I told him about Tony Quatman and his secretary. I told him that she didn’t feel close to her father, and she didn’t seem to care about her husband. Actually said that she didn’t give a rat’s ass about Sandler Conroy. And finally I told him that Mrs. Conroy thought she might be in line to be murdered.
We swung off the highway by the Miami Dolphin stadium and headed to our apartment complex.
“You still haven’t told me how much.”
“After all that, and you want to know how much? Aren’t you worried about a woman who thinks she’s going to be murdered?”
James tossed his cigarette out the window, the sparks scatteringbrightly in the air. “Maybe I should be more worried that she trusts you to prevent the murder. I’m not sure I’d even trust you when it comes to that.”
“I told you. I may have gone too far.”
“How much?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Have you noticed that I have no idea what I’m looking for? She didn’t give me a clue what I should expect.”
He was quiet again.
“Okay. She didn’t give me a clue as to what we should expect.”
James gave me a wry smile. “Whatever the lady wants us to look for, that’s what we’ll look for. It sounds like she’s going to make it up as she goes.”
“I had my first assignment today.”
“You’re just gung-ho about making all this money, compadre. I’m proud of you.”
“James, someone was messing around with her Lexus.”
“Lexus?” His eyes were bright. The fact that someone was messing around wasn’t important. The fact that the lady owned an expensive luxury car—well—
“Lexus. It looked like maybe he was doing something to the tires.”
“And?”
“I tried to chase him down, but somebody picked him up in a Honda Civic.”
“What did he look like?”
“Short, Asian, maybe in his thirties, but I didn’t get that close.”
“Skip?”
“What?”
“How much?”
“James, I’m not sure this is a good idea. Something else I didn’t mention.”
My partner shook his head. “How much have you kept from me, amigo? If you don’t want me involved, just say so.”
“Quit feeling sorry for yourself. I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”
“So
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