Read Online Funny Money by James Swain - Free Book Online

flicker of silver caught his eye. Out of the snow he plucked a silver dollar–size coin. It looked real, only instead of Eisenhower's profile it was stamped with Archie Tanner's grinning mug. Funny Money.
    â€œHurry up,” Harold called.
    He climbed down the ladder. Reaching the bottom, he shoved the items he'd found on the roof into his pocket.
    â€œWhat did you find?” Harold asked.
    â€œNone of your business.”
    â€œYou're not going to split what you found?”
    â€œWhy should I?”
    â€œI thought we were partners,” the boy said with righteous indignation.
    Valentine looked at him scornfully. Harold had carrot red hair and enough rings on his face to hang a shower curtain. A sullen-faced manager came around the corner.
    â€œHarold? What the hell's going on?”
    Harold spelled it out to him. Traitor. Walking over to the Mercedes, Valentine got in and drove away.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    When you threw in tax and the extra battery the cute salesgirl at the AT&T store talked him into buying, the charger for Doyle's cell phone set Valentine back fifty bucks. It was ridiculous: People were spending a small fortune to do something that only cost a quarter. It was like the four dollar coffee at Starbucks, and ten dollars to see a first-run movie. Someday, everyone would be a millionaire, and a burger would cost a grand.
    Sitting in his motel room, he plugged the charger into the wall and Doyle's cell phone lit up in his hand. The salesgirl had thrown in an instruction manual, and he taught himself how to access the phone's memory bank and scrolled through it. It contained six names.
    Guy. Sean. Home. Tom. Tony. Honey.
    Valentine stared at the last name. Who was Honey? Doyle had never mentioned her. That wasn't like him. Then he had an unsettling thought. Was Doyle seeing someone on the side?
    The idea seemed absurd. When it came to women, Doyle was like him: a square. They'd both married their high school sweethearts, both stayed loyal through thick and thin. Only the evidence was staring him in the face.
    He pulled a Diet Coke out of a paper bag and popped it. Whoever this woman was, he needed to talk to her. Chances were, she knew something. That was the real reason guys had girlfriends. You could get sex just about anywhere these days. But finding someone to talk to, that was tough.
    He retrieved Honey's number and hit Send. After three rings a woman's groggy voice said, “Yes?”
    It was nearly two in the afternoon. What kind of woman slept this late? Then he had a bad thought. What if it was someone he knew? Putting his hand over the mouthpiece, he said, “Is this Honey?”
    The woman caught her breath.
    â€œI'm a friend of Doyle's,” he said.
    The phone went dead in his hand. He finished his Diet Coke, wondering how many more unpleasant items he was going to discover about his old pal.
    Something in his bones told him Gerry was trying to call him. Taking out his own cell phone, he dialed into voice mail and found a lone message awaiting him.
    â€œPop, do you have any idea what you've done?” his son said. “The cops raided the bar and arrested Big Tony. They told him
you'd
sent them!
How could you do this to me?
    â€œNow Big Tony's brothers are looking for me! Goddamn it, Pop, I'm a dead man. Do you understand?
A dead man!
This is the last time I ever ask you for help.
The last time!”
    He erased the message. You try to help out, he thought, and look where it gets you. The door to his room banged open. A Mexican chambermaid pushing a vacuum came in. Plugging the vacuum into the wall, she started cleaning.
    â€œCome back later!” he yelled over the vacuum's roar.
    She smiled sweetly, not understanding a word.
    â€œLater,” he yelled, pointing at his watch.
    She pointed at his cell phone. He looked down; it was all lit up. Crossing the room, he unplugged her.
    â€œLater,” he said. “Please.”
    He chained the