Wish I was a pro with official standing. Maybe soon. Nick quipped, “Charlie, go drink like a pro.”
“On it,” Charlie said. “Bye, Brian.” He hung up.
Nick added to Brian, “Get some sleep, big guy. I’ll text you when I’m heading home.”
“’Kay. Good luck.” Then there was dead air on the line. For a moment Nick held the phone to his ear and appreciated a boyfriend who let him do what he needed to do. Brian wasn’t happy about Nick’s delusions of law enforcement, he could tell, but the guy was making such an effort not to say so that it was like a gift.
Then Charlie’s car pulled back into the lot by the bar and Nick put the earbud back in. As Charlie went inside, the background bar sounds resumed.
“Hey! I thought you split.” Sam sounded drunker than before.
“I did. Got home and that bitch started in on me. Where was I for two hours, how could I waste our money on beer, how dare I bring my drunk self around our precious angel?”
“Guy’s got a right to a drink or two.”
“I know, right? So I said I’d take my fucking drunk self off again.”
“Hah!”
“She pitched a fit and I walked out the door. ’Cause I need another beer.”
“Fuck yeah. I’d buy you one, but I’m tapped out.”
“I’ll buy.”
There was a break with background mumbles as Charlie fetched the beers.
Then Sam said, “Ahhh. You’re a good friend.”
“Us guys gotta stick together.”
“Hell, yeah.”
“And make money. Somehow.”
“Are you broke too?”
“Yeah. About the only thing the old lady got right was that I’m buying booze with the bill money.”
“Sometimes a man’s gotta get through the day.”
“Yup. Need to find work. Although, fuck, if I work a paycheck, I’ll lose disability money and probably end up more broke. They get you both ways.”
“Fuckin’ gov’ment.”
“I need a cash job. No questions asked.”
“Ain’t none. Less you got hidden talents.” Sam’s voice strengthened like he was leaning in closer. “There’s always work for guys with a talent.”
“Talent like fucking what? Tap-dancing?”
Sam barked a laugh. “Nah, but I know a guy. He’s got a plan.”
“What plan?”
“Shhhhh. It’s a secret.” There was a thump and crash. “Fuck, that was m’beer. Buy another round?”
“Sure. It’s only money.”
Nick heard them both laugh, then there was the usual business of buying a drink. Sam said, “Don’t you wan’ another?”
“Still finishing this one. Then I gotta leave ’cause I’m tapped out, and you’ll be on your own.”
“It sucks.” Sam’s tone got lower. “I should have money coming in. Did a job. Did what I was told, but do you see any money in my pocket?”
Charlie said, “I’m guessing hell to the no?”
“You got it.” A pause. “I’m gonna go get my share. Now. Tonight. He owes me.”
“Who does?”
“Shhh. Secret. Gonna get it.” Nick heard the scrape of a chair.
“Stay put. The bartender’s looking at you. Probably going to take your keys.”
“Fuck.”
“Even if he doesn’t, you can’t drive anywhere till you sober up, which’ll be hours, and it’s fucking late.”
“Shit. Yeah… Fuck… Hey. You’re not too pissed. You drive.”
Nick mouthed a silent Yesss! although the audio was one-way, and no one would have heard him.
“I don’t know.” Charlie sounded impressively reluctant. “Is the guy’s place far?”
“Nah, man. Fifteen minutes tops. When I get paid, I’ll buy you a drink. I’ll buy two drinks.”
“Well, I guess. Okay. You really think this is a good idea? What if you get there, and the guy says, ‘I don’t care how much hard work you’ve done for me, you gotta wait on your money’?”
Nick gritted his teeth. Charlie, what are you playing at?
It turned out Charlie was a better judge, though, because Sam’s reply came back low and angry. “He better not. Y’know? He owes me and I’m damned well collecting some of it tonight.”
“Okay. Lead the way.”
Nick ducked low as they came out the door, not turning on his engine until they’d pulled out of the lot. He had to follow a bit closer than he’d have liked, especially in light late-evening traffic, but the tracker was in Sam’s truck. Charlie gave clues via the transmitter as he drove, asking Sam out loud where to turn, so Nick didn’t have to be right on their tail.
They ended up on a street of bigger houses set back from the road behind well-tended lawns. Sam said, “This one. Pull ’round back and wait in the car for me.”
Charlie answered, “Nice place. I like the flagpole,” by which Nick was able to pinpoint the right house as he