“What time are you meeting him?” Alvarez finally asked.
“Three thirty.”
“Do you still want to go alone?”
“I think it’s best.”
“If you see any hint of cops-”
“Then I don’t even stop the car.”
When Corbin reached the rest stop in Delaware, he found Beckett already waiting for him. To make sure this wasn’t a setup, he instructed Beckett to follow him. A few miles down the road, he turned off the highway onto a rural road. A few miles down that road, he pulled over by a thick stand of trees. No one followed them. He now sat on the hood of his car. Beckett’s car stood parallel to his, about six feet away.
“I thought we were meeting at the rest stop?”
“The cops patrol rest stops looking for drugs and perverts.” Corbin looked at Beckett’s beat up old car. “Man, if you look closely, you can actually watch your car rust.”
“You don’t like my car?”
“What’s not to like? What happened to your Chrysler?”
“We sold it. It was too expensive. . this money couldn’t have come at a better time.”
“Remember, you can’t spend it for six months.”
“I know, but just having it will ease my mind.”
“Speaking of laundering, remember how we figured one duffel bag each?” Corbin walked toward the rear of his car and pulled out the first of the three duffel bags from the backseat. He tossed it onto the ground before Beckett. Thunk! “Turns out we got that part wrong.” He tossed the second one. Thunk!
“Holy cow!”
“We were pretty amazed ourselves.” Thunk!
“I’ll bet. Any problems?”
“Nope, everything went smoothly.”
“Have you heard anything?” Beckett asked, as he loaded the duffel bags into his trunk. He opened one to look at the money.
“No, all’s quiet on the southern front.”
“How’s the new guy?”
“Total bobo. Stuart misses you by the way. He sends his thanks for the UFO books you sent him.”
“A client of mine gave them to me when they shipped him away for a very long time. I figured Stuart might like them. How’s Kak?”
“He sends his love. How’s the new-old job?”
“I enjoy it, I just can’t afford it.”
“Remember, six months, then launder. Follow the plan we discussed.”
“I remember.”
“Well, I gotta head back. You know how to reach me if something comes up.”
“Same here.”
“So long, Evan Beckett.”
“So long, Alexander Corbin.”
They shook hands. The issue of the wallet never came up.
Over the next two months, Corbin dutifully drove to Philadelphia several times to mail off payments to credit card companies. He planned to callin address changes for each card to a series of non-existent addresses in Phoenix in six months. After that, the cell phones would meet their fiery fates. However, events would supersede his plan.
Part Two
Chapter 17
It was August, but surprisingly mild. Two months passed since Beckett and Alvarez visited Philadelphia. Corbin now played two nights a week (Tuesdays and Fridays) at Blue’s bar and was considering adding a third. More people came to see him play every night. Blue kept encouraging him to play professionally, but Corbin refused. He played because he loved playing, not because he drew a crowd, and ever since freeing himself from the restrictive playlist, he loved playing all the more.
Corbin finished his set and returned his instrument to its case. He made for the bar, where Blue tried handing him a check. Corbin refused to take it, as he did every night.
“I wish you’d take this,” Blue said, offering the check again.
“It’s your bar,” Corbin replied, pushing Blue’s hand away.
“But it’s your crowd.”
Blue returned the check to the front pocket of his guayabera shirt, the only type of shirt he owned. “When you gonna quit your day job and come play for me? I’ll pay you.”
“I’m a lawyer, not a musician.”
“You got that backwards.”
Corbin considered Blue’s words. He wondered the same thing recently. “Maybe you’re right? I don’t know.”
“’Course I’m right.” Blue leaned one elbow on the bar and waved the other arm toward the raucous crowd. “This crowd is proof of that. You think I had thirty people in here on a Tuesday night before you started playin’?”
“Let me think about it.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to think about,” Blue grumbled. “I see your lady friend is back.”
Corbin looked over his shoulder at the woman with the pink rose. For weeks now, she hadn’t missed a single one of his performances. He flirted with her a couple times, but still hadn’t truly spoken to her. He was fascinated by her, but he sensed she wasn’t the kind of woman to be picked up in a bar. Since this
Blue handed Corbin a beer. “What make this lady so special?”
“You know what, Blue? I’ve had lots of dates in the past couple years, and every single one of them bored me to tears. I’m not saying they weren’t nice or they weren’t attractive or whatever, but they were all just boring. If I lined them all up, you’d swear they were clones.”
“They all look alike?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. They looked different, but they weren’t different. They all had the same beliefs, the same wants, the same expectations. If you asked them to name their ten favorite things, you’d get identical lists. It’s like they’re being stamped out in some factory.” Corbin took a swig of his beer. “I can’t take that anymore. . I don’t think I ever could. I want someone with a real personality, not someone who gets their personality from sit-coms.”
“You think that’s this lady?”
“Yeah, there’s something about her. It’s in her manner. When I see her, I see someone different. Look at her confidence, her grace. She’s her own person. Do you know how exciting it is to meet someone who charts their own course?”
Blue nodded his head. “Ok, I get it. I’m even gonna help you out.”
“How?”
“I’m gonna tell you why you ain’t had no luck with her.”
Corbin raised an eyebrow.
Blue looked him straight in the eyes. “You ain’t your own person yet.”
Corbin stared at Blue for several seconds. He frowned, but nodded his head. “You may be onto something.”
