Monk’s cell rang as he was getting really bad coffee from a machine in the hall. The display read S&T. Shorthand for the bail bondsmen who gave him most of his good-paying jobs. He debated letting it ring through to voicemail, but Patty would be a while yet and he had to fill the time, so he punched the green button.
“Yo,” said Monk, “is this urgent? ’Cause I’m busy.”
“Checking in to see if you’ve found our boy yet,” asked Twitch, one of the two partners in the bond firm. Sadly, his real name was Iver Twitch. His parents were, Monk knew, total assholes. Twitch’s partner wasn’t much luckier—his name was J. Heron Scarebaby. Apparently it was something else before his grandfather went through Ellis Island, and either the immigration clerk was a dick or clueless. Either way, the name stuck. The universe pushed the two of them together and Scarebaby and Twitch was a thriving bail bond business with offices in several cities. Monk never bothered to ask why neither of them changed their names, or used something less outright bizarre for their business. Why not? Who the hell would forget bail bondsmen named Scarebaby and Twitch? It was like something out of Harry Potter, but without the wit or charm. Just the weird.
Monk shifted around to check both ends of the hall. Couple of nurses at the station and a female cop with soft red hair and hard green eyes standing outside of the ER entrance. Those green eyes were staring at him but she wasn’t close enough to hear any of the call. He lowered his voice anyway.
“No,” said Monk
“Are you looking?”
“I just got to town, man,” complained Monk. “Give me two goddamn minutes, will you?”
“We have this matter and then there’s a couple of other skips we need you to find,” said Twitch.
“Day ends in a y,” said Monk.
“And let’s not forget,” continued Twitch, “there’s a lot of money in play here. With the pending case, I mean.”
“I know.”
“A lot of my money if you don’t catch this little cocksucker.”
“I’ll catch him. I have a few good leads.”
“In Pine Deep?”
“One of ’em, yeah,” said Monk. “But I think he’s holed up somewhere nearby. Black Marsh, maybe. Somebody said something, and it feels like a solid tip. Don’t worry, I’ll find him.”
“Are you looking right now?” demanded Twitch. “I mean, as we speak?”
Monk sighed. “No. Look, something else came up. Had to deal with it.”
“Did I mention that this is a lot of my money? I mean, that has come up in our discussions, right?”
Monk sighed again. “I’m at the hospital with Patty.”
There was a hard beat. Then, “Is she okay?”
Monk gave him a rough cut of the story, and finished with “They’re running tests.”
Another pause, and Monk could almost hear the gears grinding as the small, fragile, decent part of Twitch warred with the lawyer-turned-bail bondsmen aspect.
“You mentioned some raised eyebrows. Local cops going to be a problem?”
“To be determined. Bet you ten bucks and my left nut they’re going to think I knocked Patty around.”
Twitch cursed quietly but with eloquence. “You need me to run interference, you call me.”
“I won’t let this get in the way of the job.”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Twitch, clearly offended. “You and Patty are family. Anyone moves against you and I’ll drop the house on them.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Okay,” said Twitch, and the line went dead.
Monk pocketed the phone, cut a last look at the red-haired cop, and went back to the waiting room.