Jack wanted to believe him, but his hand was shaking as he handed Paulo the telephone. “What’s he going to do when I tell him that his money’s gone?”
“Hopefully, this standoff will be over before we get to that point.”
“What if it’s not?”
Paulo was looking straight at him, and it was obvious that he could hear the concern in Jack’s voice. “Like I say,” said Paulo. “Hopefully, it will be over before then.”
chapter 33
T heo listened carefully to Falcon’s every word. The phone call seemed real this time, and it struck Theo as a positive step that Falcon was speaking directly to Jack and not the police. Theo didn’t want anyone putting his own interest higher than that of the other hostages, but at least he felt confident that Jack wouldn’t hold his any lower.
“Impressive,” said Falcon as he tucked away the cell phone. “Your buddy made his five-minute deadline with twenty seconds to spare.”
“I wasn’t worried. Jack is psychic, you know.”
Theo gave no outward indication that he was joking, which clearly made Falcon uncomfortable. “You messing with me?” said Falcon.
“That’s for you to figure out,” said Theo.
His eye twitched nervously, and then Falcon turned away. Theo noticed that his face was taking on a constant red and puffy quality, but it wasn’t anger. It was the winter coat. Miami’s cold snap was over, clearly, and the closed-in room was heating up in a hurry. Falcon had to be roasting. Still, he wouldn’t remove that bulky coat.
“Listen up,” said Falcon. “I’m gonna let you make some phone calls. Keep it short. Just give your name and the phone number of a friend or relative who the cops can call and say you’re doing just fine. That’s it. Anybody breaks the rules, I break your head. Got it?”
No one answered.
“Good. We’ll start with the girls.” He poked his head into the bathroom. “Natasha, how’s your friend?”
“My name’s Natalia. And my friend is in no shape to speak on the telephone, if that’s what you’re asking. She’s still fading in and out.”
“Then wake her up.”
“I think we should let her rest.”
“I think she could use a little cold water in that tub.”
Theo said, “Are you crazy? You’ll send her into shock, for sure.”
“The doctor says it’s okay.”
“What doctor?”
“We don’t do the water treatment unless the doctor says it’s okay.”
“What doctor?” said Theo.
Falcon didn’t answer. He went to the tub and turned on the cold water. It spit out a few drops before going dry. “Bastards! They cut off the water.”
“Must be what the doctor ordered,” said Theo.
“Okay, smart mouth. We’ll start with you, and then the pretty boy next to you. But first, I gotta take a dump. You can watch or look the other way. Don’t make no difference to me.”
With the bathroom door open, Theo had a clear view of the toilet, so he looked the other way as Falcon lowered his pants. The coat stayed on.
The man next to Theo leaned closer and whispered, “I can’t get on that phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because-Can’t you see what was going on here, man? These girls aren’t exactly what you’d call my friends.”
“So that must make you their priest who came here trying to save the hos.”
“Nice try. I’ve already worked that one through my mind, and it won’t fly. But I have to say something when the crazy man hands me the phone.”
“Just tell them that your name is John and that you’re here on business.”
“Make fun all you want. But how would you feel if the world was about to know that you were in a two-bit hotel room with a pair of eighteen-year-old prostitutes.”
“Eighteen?” Theo said with a light chuckle. “You can only hope, buddy.”
“Will you stop being such an ass, please? This could be the death of my career.”
“What do you do for a living?”
The guy didn’t answer, but Theo did a double take. “Hey, now I know. Ain’t you the weather guy on Action News?”
“Weather guy?” the man said, straining to show confusion. “You must be thinking of someone else.”
“No, dude. I watch you every night at eleven. Walt the Weather Wizard.”
“That’s not me.”
“Like hell. Dress you up with some hair gel and one-a those snappy Armani jackets, and you’re definitely Walt the Weatherman. But I thought you was gay.”
“No, I’m married.”
“You mean, was married.”
The weatherman closed his eyes and then opened them, as if in mortal pain. “Dear God, I’m screwed.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Theo. “You are so screwed.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. All over a stupid shopping bag.”
“What?” Theo had heard it all as a bartender, but this was one story that not even a psychologist/mixologist could have been expected to endure without being tied down-literally. It seemed that the weatherman’s teenage daughter needed to return a pair of jeans that she’d borrowed from a friend at school. Stupid husband put the jeans in a regular old grocery bag. Angry wife nearly had a stroke. “You can’t use a bag from Winn-Dixie!” she shrieked as she ran off to the closet. Moments later, she returned, the jeans wrapped in packing tissue and tucked neatly into a signature powder blue shopping bag from Tiffany.
“She was ready to kill me over a shopping bag,” he told Theo, “all because she doesn’t want some rich girl’s mother to find out that we shop at Winn-Dixie. So I look at her and say, ‘When did the funny and sexy woman I married turn into such a pretentious bitch?’”
“Ouch.”
“Was I wrong?”
“You’re always wrong,” said Theo. “It’s in the contract. Read the fine print.”
“You think I should have apologized?”
“Hmmm. Apologize or run out the door and hire yourself a couple of teenage hookers? Let’s call Dr. Phil about that one.”
The weatherman breathed a hopeless sigh, as if hearing it from Theo made things even worse. “What should I do now?”
“You do whatever it takes to get out of here alive.”
“Then what?”
“You do the honorable thing.”
“Which is what?”
“Shoot yourself.”
“Shoot myself?”
“Yes. But not on her duvet cover. She’ll hate you for that. You don’t mess with a woman’s duvet cover.”
The guy nodded, as if it all made sense. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
The toilet flushed, and out with Falcon’s waste went the last liter of water left in the hotel room. “All right, smart guy,” Falcon said to Theo. “You’re first.”
