'For something important, maybe,' I said.
'Not for Julius Ventura's money. Not to send Anthony back to Shirley.'
'You decide,' Hawk said.
'Who else,' I said.
Hawk grinned.
'Don't ask me. I don't worry 'bout things like that. I just do what I feel like.'
'So why you asking?'
Hawk smiled his still smile.
'You ever think about running for Pope?' he said.
'Some,' I said.
CHAPTER 18
It was suppertime. Hawk had the first watch on Anthony and I was in my hotel room waiting for the volcano when Ventura called me.
'What the fuck's going on?' he said.
'Just fine thanks, and yourself?'
'Never mind the wiseass shit, what'd you call me for?'
'Let you know that your son-in-law is in Vegas.'
'My daughter with him?'
'Your daughter?'
'Yeah, asshole, my daughter, you know? Shirley? She out there?'
'I haven't seen her,' I said.
'Well, she's not here,' Ventura said.
'How long's she been gone?' I said.
'She had Jackie drive her to the airport an hour ago.'
'If she's on her way here, it'd be a little soon to expect her,' I said.
'What are you, a fucking travel agent? My wife's driving me up a fucking tree about it.'
'Why would she come here?'
'Her asshole husband's there ain't he?'
'How would she know that?' I said.
'I only found him about three hours ago.'
'You said you thought he was there,' Ventura said.
'Maybe he fucking called her. I didn't hire you to ask me a bunch of fucking stupid questions.'
'You hired me to find Anthony Meeker,' I said.
'I found him.
He's here, with money, gambling.'
'Well, stay with him, see if my daughter shows up. She does, you grab her and hang onto her and call me.'
'And then what?' I said.
'I'll send some people to bring them back.'
'And?'
'And you take your fucking fee and buzz off.'
'Can I use you as a reference on my next job?' I said.
'You find her you call me, any fucking time, twenty-four hours, you understand? It's fucking three in the morning, you call me.
Somebody'll answer.'
'I'll be in touch,' I said.
I sat after I hung up and thought about this, and the more I thought the more I didn't know what the hell was going on.
I heard the key in the door and then a lot of fumbling, which I knew would be Susan. She always had trouble with keys and locks, and was always a little annoyed about it if I opened the door to save her the struggle. After a stiff resistance, the door succumbed, finally, and Susan came in carrying a lot of expensive-looking bags.
'So many shops,' she said.
