He smiled at Em as she walked over to me. “It’s just that, I don’t know, that I never would have pictured the two of you. I mean, forgive me for saying this please, but-”
“But what?”
“Well, I only knew her when we were in school,” he nodded to Em. She gave him a cold stare and nodded back. “But, man, she used to be so far out of your league.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“H e’s sleazy.”
“Em, he’s a guy.” James and I stopped at the truck. Em’s brand new BMW convertible was down the street.
“He probably uses those spy cameras to film Girls Gone Wild videos.”
I’d checked Jody out on the Web. He was solid. Good reputation, fair and honest. “He didn’t know we were dating, Em. Now he does.”
Em smiled at me. “And you set him straight. My hero.”
Her tight jeans and her black designer T-shirt hugged her cute little body, and I thought about what James and Jody had both said. About my league versus hers. Her blonde hair caught a slight breeze, and I felt a shiver.
“Let me just put the magnetic straps on the box.” James climbed into the truck and pulled the GPS from the bag. “This is going to be so cool, Skip.”
He was convinced we’d need it. To check on Carol Conroy, to track whoever her potential killer was, to follow whoever we thought needed following.
“Almost five hundred dollars of cool, James.”
“Yeah, but it’s on approval. If we don’t need it, if we don’t like it, he said we could return it.” James snapped the bands together tightly around the box.
“Just don’t make it too loose. It would be our luck to have the damned thing slip off and we’d have to pay him for nothing.”
“Okay, let’s go.” We walked down to Em’s car and she gave me a questioning look. I shrugged my shoulders. As usual, it was James’s call. He tugged at the bands, seemed confident that they were tight, and he lay down on the ground, easing himself under the BMW. “Ah, this is easy.”
“Yeah, but this is Em’s car and there’s nobody around to kick your ass for messing with his vehicle. If it was someone else’s car, and you got caught-”
James pushed himself back out. “Those magnets are tight. It’s gonna stay right where I put it.”
“And you just want me to drive wherever I usually go?” Em wasn’t 100 percent on board. Hell, it was my job and I wasn’t 100 percent on board.
“Yep. We’ll install the software on our computer at home, and we should be able to track you anywhere.”
“I don’t go to too many exciting places, boys.”
James brushed himself off. “You should get out more, Em. Pretty girl like you. Show yourself off a little more.”
“Screw you, James.” She got in the car, started it up, and pulled out onto the street.
“Can’t wait to get home and try this.”
“James, if you had your way, you’d spend the entire profit on this kind of stuff.”
“Only what we need, Skip.” We walked back to the truck.
“I keep telling you, we don’t know what we need. If anything.”
“GPS, a little portable video cam with sound, that laser beam that picks up sounds through windows, and one of those power strips to pick up conversations in offices. That would be a sweet start, you’ve got to admit.” James started the engine, and it coughed. It caught the second time.
“The problem is, you’ve got to have a receiver for the power strip, a recording device, and a laptop for the GPS, and something to capture the voice from the laser beam.”
“Now you’re getting the picture.”
“James. Those cost money, man.”
“They’re going to make us money, amigo. Lots of money.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard you say that before.”
“And chicks dig dudes with money.”
“Office Space, 1999. Actually a very funny movie.” It was about working in cubicles for some big, impersonal company. After viewing the film, and laughing our asses off, James and I had sworn to never, ever work for a company like that.
“Good guess, pard. We okay back there?”
James had never learned to drive the box truck using the big side mirrors. Every time he tried to maneuver the Chevy one-ton box truck with the mirrors, we ended up having an accident or getting stuck. I leaned out the window and looked back. Five cars back, parked by the curb was a gray Honda Accord. Could have been coincidence, but it was the third time I’d seen one in a very short period of time.
The car that picked up the Asian man in front of the Red Derby Bar. In our parking lot last night. And now a similar car was five cars away.
“You’re clear, James.”
He pulled out.
“Circle the block.”
“Why?”
“There’s a car back there. A gray Honda that looks like the same car that was parked in our lot last night. And the same one that picked up that guy who was checking out Carol Conroy’s Lexus.”
“Gotcha.” James eased the truck out of the parking space, a stream of brown exhaust blowing from the tailpipe. With the noisy muffler, the brown exhaust, and the coughing engine we’d be hard pressed to ever sneak up on someone.
Down the street and to the left, down by the big tennis pavilion with its fourteen clay courts, seven hard courts, and big stadium that seats over eight thousand people. How do I know? Em plays there. I couldn’t afford the place. I mean they’ve had the Fed Cup, the Davis Cup, and who knows what else there. Out of my league.
James turned left at the next street. We got an angry look from an old lady who was crossing the street. Not because James almost hit her, which he almost did, but because as we passed her I could see another blast of brown exhaust that shot right at her.
Now he drove two streets down, and then left on the street where we’d parked. As we slowed down and creeped slowly up the street I could see the spot was empty.
“How many gray Honda Accords do you figure are in Delray Beach? Or Miami for that matter?”
Knowing James, he already had the answer. “How would I have any clue?”
“Just wondered. I’m guessing thousands.”
“You’re probably right.”
“So, let’s not get too paranoid.”
A horn honked and I checked my sideview mirror. A long line of cars and small trucks stretched out behind us.
“You might pick up the pace, James. There are quite a few people lined up back there.”
James glanced in his side mirror. “Yeah. I see them.”
He could use the mirror when he needed to.
“And, Skip, about six cars back there’s another one of those bastards. It’s a gray Honda Accord.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
