It was easy for Stan to feel like it was just a road trip. Two couples on the road, heading to a week of fun in the sun. Only it seemed like Gen and Ronnie were the only ones having fun.
Since the driver’s seat was already set for him, Mo started the first leg bright and early. They’d be in Panama City by sundown. Ronnie had clapped her hands. “That means we can dance!”
Instead of rolling his eyes, he had agreed with enough enthusiasm to convince her.
The rain was gone, and the farther north they went, the more sun they got. It made it easier to see if anyone was following, but the van made it more difficult than he would have thought. The rearview camera had a wide view, but it distorted everything like he was looking through a glass of water.
Every black car. Every flash of metallic gray. He stared until he got a headache, and his neck started to cramp from craning to see out the side window.
He glanced back at another giggle from the seats in the back. He forced down his annoyance. He knew they weren’t taking it lightly, he just … he was jealous. He wanted to be able to enjoy the moment the same way they were.
Why wouldn’t they try to make the most of it? What could they do but wait? Just see what happened. Take it as it comes.
He sighed and settled back. A switch was coming up. A bite to eat. Freshen up, then it would be his turn. He didn’t have to tell Mo to keep an eye out. Didn’t dare ask the girls to do it too. No sense in all of them fretting.
“You call your guy yet?” Mo asked.
Stan brought his attention around from watching another black car blow buy to the exit. “Not yet, but Mr. Clarke is solid.”
“How solid?”
“As solid as money can buy.”
He didn’t want to admit to any doubt, but Clarke’s loyalty had never really been tested. It was an unknown that they would need to sort out when the time came. He couldn’t do anything from 1400 miles away.
His phone vibrated with a text. “I have a fun fact about Hemingway. Call the number I gave you from a pay phone.”
“A pay phone?” he said.
Mo flicked his glance over, then back to the road. “What about it?”
“Ian wants me to call him from a pay phone. When’s the last time you saw one of those?”
Mo shrugged. “At the airport? Truck stops? They’re still around.”
Stan pushed his head back into the leather rest. “It might be easier just to buy a new phone. That man’s paranoia is … tiring.”
“Worth the money though?”
The seat felt far too good to leave. Soft and conforming. He sighed. “Let’s try the next stop. I think most rest areas have phones, right? Probably a fifty dollar call.”
Gen poked her head through the front seats. “Anybody up here hungry?”
Mo laughed. “When am I not hungry?”
She pointed to a sign with a squeal. “That one has a Hill of Beans!”
“Mocha latte!” Ronnie sang from the back.
Stan smiled at Mo. “Could you stop at the next exit, good sir? I hear they have a Hill of Beans.”
Mo gasped in mock surprise. “No way!”
Stan clasped his hands under his throat. “And they have mocha lattes!”
“Get out!”
“No, I’m serious!”
“Stan,” Ronnie said.
Gen covered her grin as she slid to the side so Stan could see past. He turned and regarded Ronnie with innocence. “Yes, dear.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
He pointed to Mo. “He started it.”
Mo shook his head. “Now you’re tripping.”
“Great,” Stan said as he threw himself back into his seat. “Now I have white guilt.”
Mo snorted laughter. “What do you mean now?”
Gen sat back with a giggle. “Stop it or I’ll pee my pants.”
“See,” Mo said as he turned into the truck stop. “Now I’m the one with white guilt.”
“How does that even work?” Ronnie asked.
Mo shrugged. “That shit wears off on you if you hang around them long enough. You’ll see.”
Stan acted offended. “What do you mean them?”
Ronnie leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder. “He means white people, dear.”
“Wait a minute. That’s me.”
Mo nodded as he pulled into the gas pump at the end of the first row. “I’m afraid so.”
Gen had both hands in fists, and her face was turning red as she suppressed her giggles. “Oh my God, open the door.”
She and Ronnie tumbled out, holding each other up and laughing as they scampered around the front of the van.
“Look at that,” Mo said. “Pay phones.”
Stan paused before getting out. Passed his dummy corporate card over. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Mo shook his head in confusion as he took the card. “What do you mean?”
“You know, a white man asking a black man to pump his gas.”
Mo burst out laughing. “Get the fuck outta here, man. You are tripping.”
Stan’s good mood lasted all the way to the phones. When he saw the receiver of the first one ended in a frayed wire, his mirth died. When the second one looked like an elephant had jizzed all over it, it turned to anger. The third one seemed okay, but when he grabbed it, he froze when his skin stuck to the plastic.
He sighed in disgust. Realized he didn’t have any change. His disgust became anger. He stomped back over to the pump to get his card back. Mo handed it over with a grin. “No quarters, huh?”
Stan didn’t answer, but Mo’s trailing laughter brought a little of his good mood back.
Ian answered on the third ring.
“Household Services.”
“I hope this is important. This pay phone is giving me hepatitis.”
“You want health or security?”
“Is it too much to ask for both?”
“Yes.”
Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you have to tell me about Hemingway?”
“Down to business, huh? I like it. So … it looks like he owns an office staffed with convicted child molesters. Guys with no family. Expendable in the extreme. Now this is just based off a sample set of two. A couple guys sent to take us out at an abandoned car dealership.”
“I take it they were unsuccessful?”
“You take it correctly.”
“Trying to kill a Household Services contractor doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Stan nodded. “You have a theory?”
“I think Hemingway’s office goes no higher than state level. Sloppy execution hindered by paperwork-by-the-numbers shenanigans.”
“That helps decide their disposition in the future.”
“It does, but it also opens up their options. Lots of resources, especially if you’re willing to waste ‘em.”
Stan sighed. “What’s your location?”
“Not close enough for support, but we are en route.”
“Roger that.”
“Stay sharp.”
The connection clicked off.
He dropped the receiver to bang against the wall under the phone. Held his hand out in front of him as he made his way to the restroom. Washed twice before using the urinal.
Ronnie was waiting for him by the Little Debbie rack. She knew it’s where he would go. A Nutty Bar and a Zebra Cake were already in her hand, a steaming latte in the other. “Gen’s getting an assortment of roller food.”
He shook his head. “Roller food?”
She grinned. “Taquitos and hotdogs. Brats with the greasy cheese in them. You know, roller food.”
He nodded. “I get it. That’s cute.”
“What did he have to say?”
Before he could answer, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He held up one finger while he pulled it out. Why was Haggis calling?
He ducked into the nearest aisle before answering. “Yeah.”
“Hey, boss.”
Boss? Calling him that sent a spike of worry to sit on top of what Ian had told him. “What’s up?”
Haggis’ sigh sounded like static. “I took that lady cop home last night.”
Stan froze in confusion. “What lady cop?”
“Jeanette Gustoff.”
His guys tightened. “Am I supposed to congratulate you?”
Haggis chuckled. “You can if you want.”
“Then congratulations.”
“Thanks. She’s a good lady.”
“And you’re telling me this because?”
That sigh again. “She was gone when I got up. Dressed and out.” He paused for so long Stan pulled the phone from his face to see if there was still a connection.
“I think I told her where you were going.”
The regret in his voice didn’t help Stan’s rising anger. “Like exactly where we’re going? Or just generally?”
“I don’t really remember. I was drinking. She made me so nervous. It was the first time I’d been out with a lady in a while, and I … she —”
“She fucked you for information.”
Another sigh. “We didn’t fuck, so I don’t think so.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t think it was just that. She’s a good person, boss.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Well, you are. And it makes me feel better, so no.”
“No, what?”
“I’m not gonna stop calling you boss.”
“Fine. So what now?”
“I don’t know. Weren’t you looking for her anyway?”
“Yeah, but now she doesn’t have to hide. She can just check in before us and fucking wait.”
“Yeah … I guess she can.”
Stan covered his eyes. Took a deep breath. He suddenly felt bad for Haggis. He may not have known him that well, but he knew the kind of man he was. He could hear how it was tearing him up.
Add in a possible betrayal from a woman, and his ego was probably struggling.
Did it really change anything?
“Is she really a good person?” Stan asked.
“I think so. And she’s hurtin’. Been through a lot after shooting that pregnant lady.”
Then Stan remembered her. Not just remembered about her, but actually meeting her. She had said they had worked together, and he saw it in his mind like it had happened yesterday. A pretty young deputy signing over evidence in a theft case.
“That’s right,” he said. “They put her through it.”
“She’s a good one,” Haggis said.
“I think you might be right.”
Haggis’ sigh was an explosive sound of relief. “You think it’ll be okay then?”
“We got no choice but to think so. But maybe you can do a little something to confirm it.”
“What’s that?”
“Call her.”
“Call her?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Sure, but —”
“Then call her. Get some closure, and then give her this number. Tell her to call me so we can meet. No threats. No bullshit. Just talking man-to-man.”
“God, I feel like such a fool. Played so hard … but I just can’t believe she doesn’t regret it.”
“I’ve thought that a time or two myself.”
“Yeah … okay, I’ll call her.”
“I’m not stopping for anything else. Just gonna jam right through to the hotel. Or you can give me her number and I’ll call her.”
“I don’t think I can do that. I know what’s at stake, I do, but that would be …. It would be betraying her. I don’t mind being the middleman.”
And with that, Stan forgave him. Honor seemed like such a difficult thing to find lately. It was always a surprise when it reared its head. “Fair enough.”
“Okay then,” Haggis said. “I’ll let you know what she says.”
“Sounds good,” Stan said, but Haggis had already hung up.