watch, “half an hour. They will replace the four tires on your truck.”
He barely looked at the truck. Maybe he’d seen four flat tires before, or maybe he’d already seen the damage. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out the organizer, and struck several keys. He stared at the screen for a moment, then shoved it back into his pocket.
“I keep a record of what happens here. Oftentimes it comes in handy.”
We nodded.
“Reverend Cashdollar and I are truly sorry this happened to you during our event, and I hope you find the rest of your stay less eventful.” LeRoy paused, stared right at me and said, “I hope this will end any questions, concerns, or problems that you may have.” He paused, looking me in the eyes. I don’t think he ever blinked. “Do we have an understanding?”
“An understanding?”
LeRoy pursed his lips, and I detected an underlying tension. “An understanding. We’re taking care of your concerns. You have no reason to go any further with this.” The finance director nodded, turned, and walked away.
“Very officious.” James sat on the back of the truck.
“Four new tires, James.”
“Four free tires, amigo.”
I nodded. “Stan must carry some weight.”
James lit a cigarette and with a couple of days’ growth of beard, his tousled hair, coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he looked like a poster child for juvenile delinquents. “I was thinking the same thing. They really didn’t want us going to the cops. LeRoy himself comes out and tells us that it’s going to be handled? That’s pretty heavy.”
“And, James, there was a pretty momentous occasion a minute ago.”
“What was that?”
“We’re now in the famous organizer.”
“Yeah. There’s that.”
“Listen, this morning, about three, I took a walk. Dusty, the school teacher comes out of the shadows with a gun.”
James took a short breath. “Jesus. The school teacher? With a gun?”
I nodded.
“Like in the gun that someone used to shoot our four tires?”
“He had a good excuse for this gun. He says that some of the full-time guys double doing security at night. When I started asking questions about security and Cashdollar and the two deaths — ”
“Pard, you weren’t supposed to be asking questions. Remember?”
“Yeah. I follow the rules about like you do. Anyway, he tells me that he’s not allowed to talk to us.”
James took a long drag on the cigarette. “He said what?”
“He said he wasn’t allowed to talk to us.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know. What do you think it means?”
“First of all, I think it means that Stan is probably going to be pissed you’re still asking questions about Cabrina Washington. He gave you the official story on questions. But no, my good buddy has to keep prying.”
“Fuck you, James. I actually enjoy prying. Maybe I’ll approach each of the fabled six and ask them individually.”
“There’s only three left that you haven’t asked. Henry, Mug, and the quiet dude.”
“Yeah.”
“My friend, this is a very strange adventure we’re on.”
“A movie quote?” If it was, I couldn’t place it. Maybe Bill amp; Ted’s Excellent Adventure.
“No, just the truth. Somebody shoots out our tires, somebody steals our money, you have someone tell you that he’s not supposed to talk to us, and,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, “then we get this.” He handed it to me, folded.
I opened the paper and read it out loud.
We know who you are, we know why you’re here. It would be best for all concerned if you left now. The next time, it might not be the truck.
“You were thinking of telling me about this?”
“Of course, pard. It was laying on the truck bed when I woke up this morning. I needed some time to process it in my mind.”
“Jesus, James. We’re getting new tires, maybe we should just hit the road.”
“And I think we should stay. I’d like to know who’s shooting out our tires. I’d like to know why people can’t talk to us, and I’d like to know who we supposedly are and why we’re supposedly here.”
“Isn’t it enough the person who wrote the note knows those things? We know who you are and we know why you’re here. Come on, James. There’s no reason we have to know the answer too.”
He smiled. Not a laugh, but a smile. “Free tires, pard. There’s always a silver lining, eh?”
I needed time to process it too. Last night I’d agreed to stay. Now, someone was threatening our lives. That didn’t sit well at all.
“Come on, Skip. I don’t think they mean it. They’re not going to kill us, for God’s sake, and they really don’t have any reason to run us off. Do they?”
“You know, James, everyone was being so nice, then you had to spoil it. You had to go and do it.”
James’s eyes got wide. “What the hell did I do to spoil it?”
“You don’t even know?”
“You tell me.”
“You won at poker last night.” I was only half kidding.
He flicked his ash in my direction. No smile. “Yeah. Maybe that’s it. But my guess is it’s something to do with you asking too many questions, pardner. In fact, I’m sure that’s exactly what it is.”
“Maybe. But what aren’t they supposed to be talking to us about? And was that a threat that they might shoot us next time?”
“It beats me, pard. I just want to make enough money to get this little business venture on its feet.”
“And now there are full-timers with guns walking around the grounds.”
James smiled a grim smile. “Yeah. Let’s hope Mug doesn’t do guard duty. A three time felon with a gun. Scares the hell out of me.”
“And what were the felonies?”
The repair truck showed up on time, and with power jacks and two able-bodied men, they had our truck re- tired in half an hour. James couldn’t stop smiling. It was the most expensive repair on his pride and joy so far, and it hadn’t cost him a penny. In James’s world, this was nirvana.
It was closer to nine thirty when I saw the red T-Bird working its way down the narrow park road. I’d figured maybe she wasn’t coming, then I thought she might have had an accident, and finally I decided if she didn’t show up, it was just as well. But there she was. I checked my pocket one more time for the money and walked out to meet her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
S he sat across from me looking fresh, blond, and wonderful. The News Cafe was bustling, with a steady stream of walkers and gawkers parading up and down the sidewalk. We sat by the street, feeling the morning heat starting to steam the place up, as cars lined up, going nowhere very slowly, and the sideshow that is South Beach played out for us in every direction.
“You haven’t said four words since I picked you up.”
Twenty minutes, driving A1A through ethnic villages, past big hotels and ritzy shopping areas, by Indian Creek where the elite rich live, and down to South Beach. She’d asked how I was and I think I answered “okay.”
