“What the fuck was he doing down on this level?” Seven hissed in a panicked whisper.
“I imagine he parks down here to avoid prying eyes.” Grant mused, slightly calmer than his young human compatriot. “After all, he’s married, and it would be quite a black mark on his prestigious career if they were to be discovered.”
“All I can say is it’s a good thing he didn’t catch you breathing your Milk-Bone breath all over his side squeeze.”
“I find that highly offensive,” Grant replied dryly. “I am not a dog, sir.”
“I found it highly offensive too,” Seven countered, as they reached the van. “Just imagine how offensive Dudley Do-Right would’ve found it.” He opened the rear door of the van. “Now, can we cut the shit and get Sleeping Beauty loaded up so we can get the hell outta here? I didn’t allot any time in my itinerary for going to jail today.”
***
In the late afternoon, Lulah and Tiger made their way back into the house as inconspicuously as possible. Hopefully, their extended absence would not raise any awkward questions. It was getting close to supper time, and Lulah was going to have to run down to the corner market to pick up a few things. Tiger now sat at the window, taking over for Tex, who was battling Blake in a spirited computer game of some kind. From the sound of it, the old Ranger was doing an impressive good job of letting the youngster win. Lulah smiled. She could sense he was an old hand at ‘losing’ to kids. No doubt he had some of his own; grandkids too, she imagined.
Tiger was on the PDC with someone, and since he was asking about the Jenny Lou, she assumed it was Dee Ridley. “So, there’s no way you can change the Universal ID codes?” he was asking.
“You don’t understand, Tiger. It wouldn’t do any good. They’ve pulled her core processor. They’ve essentially lobotomized our sweet little Jenny.”
“Awww, dude! That’s cold!” Tiger grimaced. His mind flashed back through all the years it had taken to develop her personality, to make her the ship he’d come to know and cherish. He regretted now not letting her fly herself more. “Poor girl!”
The only thing he had left to his name now was the clothes on his back and a few pitiful rocks in the Belt.
“I know, Bro!” Dee agreed. “You’d get further into space on a bottle rocket. But …” He let his voice trail off enticingly.
“But … but what?” Tiger blurted out in frustration. “Don’t leave me hanging, man!”
“You may not need her anyway.”
“Oh? You find out about that deal you were referring to earlier?” Tiger lowered his voice as if the walls might have ears.
“Maybe. Like I said, it’s a long shot.”
“Shit! Right now, I’m up for anything.” Tiger felt hope surge, probably more than he should’ve. But he was out of aces. “C’mon Dee! Spill it!”
The other end of the line was silent for a few dramatic seconds. Finally, Dee came back.
“Ok. Here’s what I got … you been bass fishing lately?”
***
While Tiger was busy hearing Dee’s plan, Lulah was tidying up the kitchen just a little before she headed out. When her PDC pinged, announcing a simple nondescript text message, she paid it no mind at first. After all, it was the default notification tone, and only scam artists and telemarketers ever texted anymore. Everyone else used hologram apps. She finished wiping the counters down, and only then did she pick up her device, expecting to see some useless wonder drug or too-good-to-be-true invention being touted. But as she began reading the message, she froze, her face growing pale.
Congrats on ur reconciliation! And I thought I had ruined U 4 all other men ... MayB we should get 2gether to celebrate. I hear the Cockpit Bar has 2 4 1 drinks from 7 2 10 during the week. Lots of good memories there, eh? ;)
Anger and bitterness flushed her face as nausea caused her stomach to churn. She leaned against the counter, desperate to steady her shaky legs. She hadn’t recognized the number. He’d either changed it or was using a burner. At the same time, it appeared he’d gotten his hands on her new one. Maybe he’d known it the whole time, just waiting for the right opportunity to remind her she would never be free of him.
***
Months had gone by, and she’d heard nothing from him since that fateful night at his place, and she’d finally begun to allow herself the luxury of believing her former gangster lover had moved on. In the last few weeks, since Chris had moved out of the house into his own apartment, she’d had little time to think about such things anyway. She had a divorce to get through, and the number one priority was to get through it as smoothly as she could, with minimal collateral damage as far as the children were concerned.
She’d dropped the kids off at school that morning, and on the way to work, her attorney had called. He needed some financial records, tax returns, bank statements and such. The divorce was moving along pretty amicably, and she didn’t want anything to hamper that process. It would take maybe ten minutes to get it all sent off, so she decided to detour back by the house and take care of it before zipping off to her job out at
