Read Online Two for Flinching by Todd Morgan - Free Book Online

because of Cynthia. Everybody
likes her—loves her—and it’s not like I can go to them for
help.”
    “So you came to me.”
    “Cynthia is the best friend I ever had.”
Jenks was on the verge of tears. “The only friend I ever had.”
    Another sigh. “What does she say?”
    “She won’t talk to me. She wasn’t home when I
got there last night and she ain’t answering her phone. I don’t
know where she is. Or the kids.”
    “Kids are probably in school.”
    “How can I get her back if she won’t even
hear what I have to say?”
    “This is a big change.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “You need to give her some space.”
    “Space?”
    “Yeah. Let her settle down a bit. Maybe with
a little time, she’ll talk to you.”
    “I can’t do that. I have to do something. ”
    “Just wait.”
    He resumed pacing, before suddenly stopping.
“Can I send her flowers?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
    “How about a letter?” he pleaded. “A love
letter like I used to write her. Not an email.”
    “Sure. One letter. Tell her you love her and
you’ll do anything—especially giving her a little time.”
    He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s gonna be
hell.”
    “Yes, Melvin,” I agreed. “It will be.”
    I missed the car doors slamming but heard the
stairs creak. Heavy footsteps, more than one pair. The outer door
banged open, then the office door. I was almost relieved to see my
two new friends.
    “Hello, Clarence.”
    The big one frowned. “Nobody calls me
that.”
    His tag number had led to his driver’s
license and then to his credit rating. The score was not good. And you thought the internet was only for porn. “Your momma
did.”
    He had on a long coat and his pale partner
was in a blue parka. Both men kept their hands in their pockets.
“Have you found the girl yet?”
    “We are all looking for that special
someone.”
    Jenks said, “Not me.”
    Starling jerked a thumb at the bank
president. “Who’s he?”
    “A…friend.” What else could I say?
    “You need to find the girl.”
    The .45 was still in the holster at the small
of my back. “What girl?”
    He jabbed a meaty finger at my chest. “You
know,” he said. “Find her and find her fast. Or you’ll answer to
us.” He gave me his best hard stare and walked out. His partner
gave me a nod. There was a lot in that nod, in that look. What
are you going to do? He backed out the door.
    Alone, Jenks said, “What was that all
about?”
    “Beats hell out of me.”

 
     
     
    Chapter Twelve
     
     
    It wasn’t much of a car lot. Three twenty
year old cars slowly returning to earth—one sitting on a rim—the
makes and models only to be determined by close inspection. A
gleaming white Bronco, a la O.J. Simpson, with huge mud tires sat
next to a dilapidated trailer.
    I climbed the cinder block steps and pushed
through the door. Andy Chen was one hundred percent Mandarin
Chinese, his parents fleeing Hong Kong ahead of the communist
takeover and somehow ending up in north Alabama. He had graduated
with my brother and was the biggest redneck I had ever met. Andy,
phone in one ear, smiled at my entrance and held up a finger.
    “You want the odds that New England will beat
Indianapolis in the Super Bowl?” The widescreen television was
tuned to ESPN, flanked by four other smaller sets, two on each
side. ESPN News, ESPN Two, ESPNU, and ESPN T or Y or X or whatever
was left in the ESPN family. “I’ll give you fifteen to one.”
    Pause.
    “You got it,” he said. “I’ll put you down for
two bills.” Andy hung up, flipped through a yellow notebook and
scribbled something down. He spat tobacco juice into a Dixie cup
and said, “Beasily. Long time, no see.”
    “How you been, Andy?”
    “Can’t complain. Or find anybody who gives a
shit.”
    “The way of the world.”
    “You?”
    “About the same.”
    “How’s Gus?”
    “He’s good. Building roads for the
state.”
    “He still married to Tonya?”
    “Yeah. They’ve