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Authors: S.D. Thames
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history.
I glanced down. The most recent number was Pinkerton’s. That would do me no good tonight, or any other night for that matter. I surreptitiously scrolled down. The only number I recognized was Hector’s. I hit the name, hoping it would dial his line, and left the phone sitting on my lap.
The scenery started to light up as we approached a few commercial blocks with restaurants, antique shops, and specialty food stores. “All the way to Gandy?” I asked, loud enough that I could be heard on the phone.
“You got it,” Kiki said.
“We crossing the bridge?” I asked.
“Not quite,” he grunted.
“We meeting Scalzo there?”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“Come on, Kiki, admit it, Scalzo’s pissed that I served him tonight, so you’re taking me out to some place on Gandy to rough me up.”
Kiki leaned forward. “What the hell are you doin’?” He smacked Jimmy’s head. Jimmy still didn’t get it. I lowered my left leg and let the phone slide onto the floorboard. I had no idea if the call was still connected, and what, if anything, Hector might have heard.
Kiki gave me more directions. I knew the area we were going to and I didn’t like it. Next thing I knew, we were turning onto a gravel road off an island. He pointed to a storage garage facility. I knew the place, but couldn’t quite put my finger on how I knew it.
Once we were inside the facility, it hit me. Sal Barton had a garage at this place. Sal liked to buy old cars, restore them, and sell them. He usually lost money doing it, but it was a hobby nonetheless. I slowed as we passed Sal’s garage. “Keep driving,” Kiki said. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
I obeyed. Just then, my phone started ringing.
“What’s that?” Jimmy yelped.
“What’s it sound like? It’s my phone.”
“Where is it?” Kiki asked.
“I’m not sure. I think on the floor.”
Kiki slapped Jimmy. Jimmy got the drift, bent over, and picked up my phone. I saw Hector’s name displayed on the caller ID. And for the life of me, it looked like Jimmy had accidentally hit the answer button.
I listened for Hector’s voice, but all I heard was Kiki barking in the backseat, telling Jimmy to turn off the phone, oblivious that his understudy might have actually answered the call.
“Find my phone,” I said as clearly and loudly as I could without yelling. “Find my phone.”
“What the hell you talking about?” Jimmy asked. “It’s right here.” He thumbed it clumsily, rolled down the window, and threw my phone out. I could only hope Hector got the message. He had showed me the Find Your Friend app a few months earlier, and we’d agreed to follow each other in the unlikely chance that something like this happened one day.
“Enough of this already,” Kiki said. “Drive around there.”
He directed me farther into the complex, to the last row of garages.
The only sign of life was a Porsche. I imagined it being Mattie’s, and wondered for a brief moment whether he could somehow be behind this, setting me up. But as we got closer, I saw that the Porsche was black, not red, and its license plate read SCALZ0.
Once I parked, Jimmy looked to Kiki for instructions.
“Kill the engine,” Kiki said. Then he nodded to Jimmy. Jimmy got it and raised his gun toward me. Kiki’s barrel was tickling me again, too. “Now get out, nice and steady.”
So I got out quick and mean. Kiki was on me. He had nice moves for a guy his size. Jimmy was running around the front of my car, his gun pointing every which way but at me. He paused for a moment when he got a good look at me standing up. I suppose I had a good six inches on him. He took a deep breath and let Kiki take the lead.
Kiki led me into the garage with his gun in the small of my back. I kept it nice and arched, like I was getting ready to pull some weight off the floor.
A flashbulb glowed in the center of the room. That was all I could see until I caught a quick glimpse of brass
I glanced down. The most recent number was Pinkerton’s. That would do me no good tonight, or any other night for that matter. I surreptitiously scrolled down. The only number I recognized was Hector’s. I hit the name, hoping it would dial his line, and left the phone sitting on my lap.
The scenery started to light up as we approached a few commercial blocks with restaurants, antique shops, and specialty food stores. “All the way to Gandy?” I asked, loud enough that I could be heard on the phone.
“You got it,” Kiki said.
“We crossing the bridge?” I asked.
“Not quite,” he grunted.
“We meeting Scalzo there?”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“Come on, Kiki, admit it, Scalzo’s pissed that I served him tonight, so you’re taking me out to some place on Gandy to rough me up.”
Kiki leaned forward. “What the hell are you doin’?” He smacked Jimmy’s head. Jimmy still didn’t get it. I lowered my left leg and let the phone slide onto the floorboard. I had no idea if the call was still connected, and what, if anything, Hector might have heard.
Kiki gave me more directions. I knew the area we were going to and I didn’t like it. Next thing I knew, we were turning onto a gravel road off an island. He pointed to a storage garage facility. I knew the place, but couldn’t quite put my finger on how I knew it.
Once we were inside the facility, it hit me. Sal Barton had a garage at this place. Sal liked to buy old cars, restore them, and sell them. He usually lost money doing it, but it was a hobby nonetheless. I slowed as we passed Sal’s garage. “Keep driving,” Kiki said. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”
I obeyed. Just then, my phone started ringing.
“What’s that?” Jimmy yelped.
“What’s it sound like? It’s my phone.”
“Where is it?” Kiki asked.
“I’m not sure. I think on the floor.”
Kiki slapped Jimmy. Jimmy got the drift, bent over, and picked up my phone. I saw Hector’s name displayed on the caller ID. And for the life of me, it looked like Jimmy had accidentally hit the answer button.
I listened for Hector’s voice, but all I heard was Kiki barking in the backseat, telling Jimmy to turn off the phone, oblivious that his understudy might have actually answered the call.
“Find my phone,” I said as clearly and loudly as I could without yelling. “Find my phone.”
“What the hell you talking about?” Jimmy asked. “It’s right here.” He thumbed it clumsily, rolled down the window, and threw my phone out. I could only hope Hector got the message. He had showed me the Find Your Friend app a few months earlier, and we’d agreed to follow each other in the unlikely chance that something like this happened one day.
“Enough of this already,” Kiki said. “Drive around there.”
He directed me farther into the complex, to the last row of garages.
The only sign of life was a Porsche. I imagined it being Mattie’s, and wondered for a brief moment whether he could somehow be behind this, setting me up. But as we got closer, I saw that the Porsche was black, not red, and its license plate read SCALZ0.
Once I parked, Jimmy looked to Kiki for instructions.
“Kill the engine,” Kiki said. Then he nodded to Jimmy. Jimmy got it and raised his gun toward me. Kiki’s barrel was tickling me again, too. “Now get out, nice and steady.”
So I got out quick and mean. Kiki was on me. He had nice moves for a guy his size. Jimmy was running around the front of my car, his gun pointing every which way but at me. He paused for a moment when he got a good look at me standing up. I suppose I had a good six inches on him. He took a deep breath and let Kiki take the lead.
Kiki led me into the garage with his gun in the small of my back. I kept it nice and arched, like I was getting ready to pull some weight off the floor.
A flashbulb glowed in the center of the room. That was all I could see until I caught a quick glimpse of brass
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