“You’re not gonna believe what happened to me today, Sam,” Tommy whispered to himself, pacing on the sidewalk a block away from Sam’s house.
“Remember when you told me about the importance of luck,” Tommy continued, hoping to find the most positive—no, make that the safest—introduction to his news. “Well, did I have one hell of a lucky day today!”
Tommy shook off that start. “Sam, I think I may have found the weapon, and I didn’t inform you sooner because of my selfish desire to advance my own career.”
Several driverless SUVs passed by, their bright beams lighting up the dark corner.
“Sam, I know you would have done the same thing if you were me, so here goes . . . I found the weapon, and I didn’t inform you sooner because I wanted the chance to track down the lead myself, and that’s exactly what I did. Right or wrong. I made a choice, and I’m fully prepared to suffer the consequences of my actions.”
Tommy let that one sink in and repeated it several times. Yes, that is the winner, he thought. Truthful, gutsy, and sincere. Sam would be hard-pressed to find fault with that. “I made a choice, and I’m fully prepared to suffer the consequences of my actions.”
Happy with his carefully selected choice of words, he reached into his pocket, pulled out an airline-sized bottle of Jack Daniels, and downed the whiskey. He felt the liquid warm his belly, and confidently made his way towards Sam’s house.
[][][]
Tommy’s slightly shaking hand reached out and knocked on Sam’s front door. He popped a breath mint and whispered to himself one more time, “Sam, I know you would have done the same thing if you were me, so here goes . . .”
He heard footsteps making their way toward the front door, and the thought of making a run for it entered his mind. Before he could make the 180-degree turn, the door swung open.
“Sam . . .” Tommy started, and his voice trailed off as Kathy stood in the doorway, dressed in Sam’s blue robe.
“Cat got your tongue, Tommy?” Kathy asked, wanting to play it cool as though it were perfectly normal for her to be opening Sam’s door at nine o’clock at night, barely dressed and in his clothes.
“Hi, Kathy,” Tommy said, caught off guard. “I wasn’t expecting you, you know, to be here, at Sam’s.”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting you, you know, to be here, at Sam’s, either,” Kathy retorted playfully.
The wind was blown right out of his sails. “I need to talk with Sam right away. It’s important.”
Kathy kicked the door open with her foot and motioned for him to enter. “He’s not here, but if it’s important, you better wait for him to get home.”
Tommy dutifully wiped the soles of his shoes off on the faded welcome mat and entered the house.
[][][]
Kathy paced back and forth, the tiny green light on her earpiece holding steady as she waited on hold. After hearing a moment-by-moment account of Tommy’s long day, she knew two things were now certain: number one, her magical evening with Sam was officially over, and number two, Sam was going to rip into this kid like it was nobody’s business.
“He’s gonna go ballistic, you know that?” she said as Tommy sat on the living room couch, biting at his lower lip.
“I had a feeling it might get ugly, but like I said, I made a choice, and I’m fully prepared to deal with the consequences of my actions.”
Kathy stopped pacing as an operator from the Bureau returned to the line. “Yes, that’s right . . . Sam Knight,” she said. “He was meeting a friend there . . . No, I didn’t get his name . . . No, I understand . . . If he returns your page, could you please have him call his house right away . . . It’s urgent. Thank you.”
Tommy walked over to the cluttered dining room table. He glanced down at the photo Kathy had shown him of the mysterious bag lady, taken outside of Daniel Gracy’s apartment building.
“I’m surprised Sam didn’t take his phone.”
“He bolted out of here in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.”
There was a long stretch of silence, then Tommy said, “You really think he’s going to be that upset?”
She heard the fear mounting in his voice.
“He’ll get over it. You’re gonna be on his shitlist for a week or two, and then he’ll soften up, especially if you’ve cracked it.”
“And if I haven’t?”
“Then you’re fucked.”