Home Free - Fern Michaels [49]
Harry ignored him as he unlocked the door.
“Damn, it’s cold in here, Harry,” Bert said. “Why did you turn the heat down so low before you closed up shop?”
Harry peered at the thermostat. “It’s seventy degrees in here. Seventy degrees is not cold.” He headed toward the training room. “You guys need to update next week’s roster. And someone needs to call those guys at the DOJ and tell them if they miss one more session, they’re outta here.”
“I’ll do it,” Bert said as he shucked his jacket, but Harry didn’t hear him. He was already gone.
“Let’s go check on Harry’s master. What the hell did that old guy do here for two whole days all by himself?” Jack said.
“Watched old Bruce Lee videos, is what Harry said he would do. Look! He’s sitting in the same spot he was in when we left. Just waiting for Harry to get back so he can train himself.” Bert guffawed.
“I think it’s time you and I had a talk with the old guy. You know, shake him up a little so he contributes something to this training Harry is counting on. When I think of all the money Harry paid out to his organization, or whatever the hell you call it, my blood boils. I hate seeing Harry getting ripped off like this.”
“Look, Jack, Harry told us to mind our own business, and he meant it. We need to leave well enough alone and let Harry do his thing. I’m not saying I like it, but that’s the way it is.”
“Oh yeah! Well, check this out! This guy’s dead!” Jack said, feeling the old master’s neck for a pulse. “He’s been into rigor and out again, and he’s starting to smell. You better get Harry in here to see what he wants to do about this.”
“You mean like stash him in ice and pretend he’s still here working? I don’t think that will fly. Harry is going to be so upset. I bet he cries. Two down! Harry!” Bert bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Harry appeared out of nowhere. “What?”
“Your master here . . . He’s dead! That means no pulse and he isn’t breathing, which translates to d-e-a-d.”
“Nah, he just sits like that.” But Harry looked worried as he approached his assigned master.
“Harry, I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies in my day, and this guy is dead!” Bert said. “How do you want to handle this?”
Harry threw his hands in the air. “Shit, they’ll blame me. I left him here. They might send in their enforcers to take me out.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Harry, get real. You watch too many of those Bruce Lee movies. The guy was old. He died. People die when they get old. You didn’t have anything to do with it. Worst-case scenario is, they send you another old geezer as a swap,” Jack said.
“I say we ice him until Harry is done with his training. You have that big freezer in the basement. Let’s just stuff him in there until it’s time to . . . give him back.” Bert looked at Jack and Harry to see what they thought of his suggestion.
“No! You aren’t even sure he’s dead,” Harry said. “Are you crazy? Don’t answer that. Of course you’re crazy. I have to call . . . We are not . . . icing anyone.”
“He’s dead, Harry. Look at him. He’s blue. And he’s starting to smell. Okay, call whoever it is you have to call, but you should call a doctor first, right, Bert?”
“I’m going home,” Bert said.
“Like hell you’re going home! You found him! You have to . . . talk to . . . whoever it is that is in charge of the old guy. God, Harry, how could you have been so stupid as to get involved with these people? Now what are you going to do?”
Harry dropped to the floor and stuck his head between his knees.
“Harry, you son of a bitch, look at me,” Jack ordered. “Bert and I are going to take charge. We are going to make all of this go away. Are you listening to me?”
Harry nodded.
“Okay, this is what we’re going to do. Call those people and tell them to come and pick up the old guy. Bert and I will set them straight. Neither Bert nor