passed it, even though Charlie’s car was out of sight. He drove a few doors down, then took the chance of turning in at the driveway of a dark neighboring home. He stopped and cut his headlights. Executing a careful and quiet about-seven-point turn on the narrow drive, he reversed the car to face toward the road again. As he maneuvered, he listened.
“Who lives here?” Charlie’s voice was clear over the earbud.
“None of yer business.” Sam sounded less drunk and more nervous. “Stay here. I’m gonna talk to a guy about a dog.”
“Yeah, right.” Charlie’s grumble was muted. There were some rustling and clicking sounds, a thump, then more raspy crackling.
Then eventually, the sound of knocking, a pause, more knocking. A voice, deep and unfamiliar, surprisingly loud and clear— “What are you doing here?”
And Sam, slightly muffled— “I need to talk to you.”
There was a long pause, then, “Get inside and make it fast.” A door slammed.
Nick’s phone lit up silently with a text. Charlie. Nick opened it.
~I put the transmitter in Sam’s pocket
WTF? Nick frowned as he pressed the earbud deeper into his ear. It was a risky move. If Sam found the device, he’d be bound to suspect Charlie. ~Make sure you get it back
Nick’s worries were sidetracked by the unfamiliar voice saying, “You better have a good reason for showing up here at this hour.”
Sam answered, “I’m here for my money.”
“What money?”
“What you owe me.” Sam’s tone took on a whine. “Reggie ain’t paid me shit for the last two jobs. I got bills.”
Nick hoped like hell the recorder was also picking this up. It was hard to make out details, but he had the impression of icy chill as the deep voice said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. The antique store and the Farris place.”
“Read my lips.” The man’s words went slow and heavy. “I. Have. No. Idea.”
“Come on,” Sam wheedled. “It’s working, right? Farris paid his Watch subscription after all. Reggie said so. It’s all working, but I’m the one doing the hard stuff and I deserve my money.”
“If you and Reggie have something going, you talk to him. I have nothing to do with it. Now get out.”
“The hell you don’t. You sat right there, telling us what to do while we picked the targets. The store, and Farris. You—”
“Watch your tone.”
Sam must have still been pretty drunk, because he rambled on despite the warning Nick could hear over a tiny speaker. “You did. You said, not Claussen, ’cause he’s a friend of yours, but Farris was a good bet. You told us—”
“Stop. Shut up!”
There was a silence, then the stranger said, “Right. Where’d you park?”
“Back at the bar.”
“Wha— how’d you get here?”
“M’friend. Charlie. Charlie something.”
The deep voice went arctic. “What did you tell this Charlie? Where is he?”
Sam must have finally got some sense because he sounded nervous and apologetic. “He’s parked out back. He stayed in the car. I didn’t tell him nothin’, just that I was owed some money and was gonna collect. I’m broke.”
“You’re sure that’s all you said?”
“Yeah, positive. I’m not stupid. Look, gimme forty bucks and I’ll get outta your hair. I can wait on the rest. It’s okay.”
“Really?”
“Thirty? Gas ’n’ beer money? Reggie wouldn’t give me any. Fuck. I shouldn’t’ve come.”
“Damned right, but you did. This guy Charlie. Who is he?”
Nick gritted his teeth, made sure the receiver was settled in his shirt pocket, and grabbed his gun from under the seat.
Sam’s voice came clearer. “Just a guy, from the bar. He’s broke too. His old lady had a baby.”
Nick eased out of the car, locking the door behind him. He held the Glock hidden in his jacket pocket and jogged to the edge of the road. In the dark, it’d be safer than cutting through side yards.
“Just a guy.” He could almost hear the unknown man weighing the risks. “You’re sure you said nothing about the job?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay. Listen up, meathead. You’re drunk and confused and— no, wait. Here’s what you do.” There was some rustling. “Here’s forty bucks. Take it.”
“Um. Thanks, I—”
“Shut up. You tell him you did some landscaping work for me. Those brambles I cut down out back. You tell him you did that on the weekend and now I paid you the forty bucks for it. Got it?”
“Sure. Yessir. Brambles.”
“Got a thorn in your hand through the gloves but you made forty bucks.”
“Okay. Yeah. Brambles.”
Nick crossed the ditch to the trees beside the road, listening, hoping he