“Ah, the lovely Mrs. Conroy.”
“Yeah. She wants to come over tonight at seven to pick up the transcript.”
“I’ll be sure to disappear.”
“No. I don’t think so. She’s upset with you-and with me, and we both need to be here to take some wind out of her sails. Got to calm her down, James.”
“Then I’ll have about five beers just before she shows.”
“It might not be a good idea.”
James walked to the refrigerator and opened one. Something smelled spoiled, and I couldn’t imagine what it was. We use it primarily for beer. Maybe that leftover crab James brought home last week. Sometimes it doesn’t stay as fresh as it should.
“I can hear her now, Skip. ‘Mr. Lessor, I smell alcohol on your breath.’ ”
I knew the Will Smith comeback from the movie Hancock. “That’s ’cause I’ve been drinkin’, bitch.”
Neither of us cracked a smile. It had been that kind of a day.
“Let me show you. Just stay there.”
James walked back into his room, then reappeared with a tripod and what appeared to be a short telescope. It was wired to a box he held in his hand.
“Ta-da.”
I shook my head. “So not only will it pick up sound at two hundred yards, but it will withstand a throw of twenty or thirty feet.”
“You got it, pard.”
“Jody would be proud.”
“It still works, Skip. Must be the Lord’s will.” He gave me that charming smile. “And by the way, amigo, can you check on Feng’s car? Track that little sucker and see where he is right now?”
I flipped on the laptop and watched as the Miami map came into view. I scanned the screen, looking for Feng’s little blip. It was still surprising to me that he hadn’t figured out we were tracking his car.
I found the Honda. “It’s sitting still at the moment. It’s right near that day care center.”
“Maybe the guy’s a pervert, hanging around a school yard.”
“We’ve got nothing on this guy, James. Nothing. I say we drop it.”
“Humor me.”
“I think I do that every day.”
James ignored my sarcasm. “What time is it?”
I checked the computer. Five thirty.
“The dry cleaners is what, ten minutes from here?”
“The dry cleaners?”
“The one Feng stopped at when we first started tracking him.”
“About ten, yeah.”
“Let’s jump in the truck. Take the laptop, and let’s see if he goes there next.”
“And what’s that going to prove?”
“Probably nothing. But we’re taking along The Sound Max. Maybe give it a test run.”
“What?”
“I asked you to humor me.”
“You’ve already got us in trouble once today.”
“I can do better than that. You know I can. What’s my record?” He folded up the tripod and started out the door. “Grab the laptop, pard.” He walked out the door. Over his shoulder he yelled. “Five times in one day.”
“When?”
“When we were fifteen. I’ll fill you in on the way.”
Feng moved while we were en route.
“Following his ritual?”
“He’s headed toward the dry cleaners. It may be a quick stop. Honestly, James, he’s probably just dropping off laundry.”
“We’ll soon find out, amigo.”
“When we were fifteen? You set a record for getting into trouble? Why don’t I remember this?”
“You probably weren’t paying attention. Yeah. That must be it, because for just one day I set a personal record for doing things I shouldn’t have done. Mind you, Skip, I’m not saying I’m proud of all the things I did, but…” He hesitated. “Ah, what the heck, I am proud of them. If I remember right, I started that day in Miss Naab’s class, glued her grade book to the desk and she blamed you. I think you almost got a couple days off on account of that one.”
“Damn. I knew that was you, but you never admitted it.”
“So gluing the book was number one. I got you in trouble, which was number two, and for number three I skipped track practice. Number four on the list, I ‘borrowed’ Mom’s car and picked up Janice Richards. Being fifteen years old, I obviously didn’t have a license. We parked in back of the old mental hospital, you remember that old decrepit place, and number five and last on my infamous list, I got to second base with Janice. All in all, a pretty good day.”
“You’re a nutcase. Do you know that?”
He just beamed and kept on driving.
“Feng stopped.”
“Was I right? He stopped at the cleaners?”
“It would appear.”
“We’ll be there in three minutes. There was a parking lot for a deserted gas station across the street. We can pull in there. Think he’ll recognize the truck?”
“I still have no idea what you have in mind.”
“Just be patient. All will be explained, Grasshopper.”
I watched the screen and Feng’s Honda didn’t move. James hit a pothole on Bianca Drive and I thought we were going to lose the muffler. He turned onto Bonita Boulevard and there it was. Chen’s Laundry. He pulled up beside the cleaners. A gray Honda Accord was parked directly in front of the establishment.
“There’s an office in the back, and those big plate-glass windows in the front. Where do you think he is?”
“If he’s just dropping off laundry, he’ll be out in the front by the counter. My guess is that’s it.”
“My guess is that he’s in the office.”
“Why does it matter, James?”
“You thought he was suspicious. You were sure he was following us using a Global Positioning System. Now, I buy into that and try to find out more, and you want to walk away from it.”
“All right, are we going to sit here and debate where he is?”
“I thought we’d prove where he is.” James pulled across the street to the abandoned cement-block building. They were plentiful in Carol City. If you wanted an abandoned building, complete with pitted cracked asphalt parking lot and weeds about ten feet high, you could find one in every other block. Some had been converted into churches, but most of those had reverted back to abandoned concrete-block buildings.
James backed up the truck so the rear was facing the plate-glass windows across the street. He got out of the truck and motioned for me to do the same.
I gazed at the laundry, a dirty white stucco building with a faded sign propped up in the front window that said open.
James rolled up the back of the truck and climbed in. I followed.
“Okay, Kemo Sabe, we’re going to see what the gossip is.” He set the tripod about halfway back in the box of his truck and aimed the wand at the front window of Chen’s.
Putting on his headphones, he pulled the trigger.
I watched the small metal box that was wired to the wand. A meter was flashing. “The meter, James. It’s flashing.”
He nodded. “We’ve got contact.”
We were buried far enough back that it was dark, and although I doubted that anyone was watching, I was
