Vance said, “I need a favor from you, Bobby.”
“A favor? What are you crazy, Hofer? Calling me up like this? After all these years. If my wife picked up …”
“But she didn’t pick up. You did, Bobby. And I need something from you. It ain’t much. I figured I’m owed that from you. Don’t you think so, Bobby-boy?”
“I’m not ‘Bobby’ to you, Hofer. I’m not anything to you. I’ve got a family now. I know what you did for me back then. And Lord knows, I guess I am in your debt some. But that was years back. We’ve all moved on. I can’t even talk to you now. I’m hanging up now—”
“No, Bobby, you’re not hanging up. Not if you know what’s good for you. Not until you hear what I have to say. I ain’t looking for much, all things considered. Not so much at all, to make things square.”
Vance knew if Martinez was still listening, there was hell in his eyes.
“What is it you want, Vance?”
“How’s life been for you, Bobby? Good, I suspect. I hear kids in the background. I think you’re still on the job. I figure probably a sergeant by now. Pension. What did you say, we’ve all moved on … ?”
“Not sergeant,” Martinez said begrudgingly. “Patrolman, first class.”
“Well, ain’t that grand. Me, Bobby, shall we say I haven’t been as kissed by fate. Having fully moved on … My wife died. Lung cancer. My kid’s a fucking drug addict who’s now in …” He stopped, deciding not to say where Amanda was. “Been operating a lathe press these last ten years. But got laid off. Guess my temper’s always been a thing to deal with, but you know that. Even lost my home …”
“I’m sorry, Vance,” Martinez said. “I am.”
“Yeah, sorry …” Vance said. “I bet you are. It’s just that ‘sorry’ is a big ol’ luxury to me now. Know what I mean. ‘Sorry’ is like having a bagful of cash. But cash you can’t spend. You just look at it. And watch it. And it looks back at you with scorn. Kind of laughing at you …”
Martinez didn’t say anything.
“So I’m giving you a chance. A chance to square an old debt. And a damn easy one at that. ’Cause, make no mistake, Bobby, it was me who gave you that happy life you’re living now. Who gave you those kids I hear. That rank. That pension you’ll be spending one day … I don’t have to explain it all out. I gave ’em to you. You understand that, don’t you, Bobby-boy … ?”
Vance could all but feel Martinez seething on the other end. And weighing his reply. Finally, he came back: “What is it you want from me, Vance?”
“Good.” He had him! Vance told the cop about this person he owed a comeuppance to. “This doctor. From down south. He got my ’Manda all strung out on these pills. She’s done a bunch of bad things. I just want him razzed, Bobby. That’s all. You know what I mean. He’s coming up your way. In a couple of weeks …”
“Razzed?”
“You know the routine. Just take him out of his car. Scare the shit out of him a bit. I’ve seen you work. I just want him to know he’s not so high-and-mighty. He deserves that. Got my little girl all messed up. You have a little girl, don’t you, Bob?”
“I do. Becky. She’s ten.”
“So it should be easy for you. You just think of her. You’ll know what to do. I just want you to scare the daylights out of him. You can even bring some pals in on it if you like. Just make the guy feel like his fucking world’s falling apart …”
“And I’m gonna find this guy, how … ?” Martinez asked. “You said he’s not from around here?”
“No. South. Palm Beach. But I’ll take care of all that, don’t you worry. You just handle your end. You just make him shit those pants, and you’ll never hear from me again. We’re clean. So what do you say? Easy, huh?”
“When?” Martinez asked, after a bit of time, thinking it over.
“March nineteenth. He’ll be flying into the airport. I’ll pick him up there, and let you know what he’s driving and where he’s heading … But I think it’s near the Marriott Sun Coast Resort. You know that place?”
Martinez said he did.
“Just scare the daylights out of him. That’s all I ask. I told you, it’s not much. You can even tell him it was from me if you like when it’s all over. Yeah, I’d like that. Say hello to him. From Vance. Okay … ?”
“And if I do this right for you … ?”
“Then we’re done. For good. Won’t even light a candle at your funeral. ’Course, much more likely, you’ll be lighting one for me first.”
Martinez didn’t laugh. “March nineteenth?”
“March nineteenth it is, buddy. You free? I catch you on a good day, Bobby-boy?”
If Martinez had agreed with a bit more generosity of spirit, or at least a bit quicker, acknowledging his debt, Vance might have regretted how this “favor” would ultimately end for him.
But since he didn’t, Vance decided not to waste a whole lot of pity on him. A debt was a debt, and Martinez was no angel. No angel at all.
“Just make him soil those fancy pants of his, Bobby-boy.”