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Six Bad Things_ A Novel - Charlie Huston [63]

By Root 1175 0
on the bathroom floor talking on the cell phone Dylan gave me. Sid has come back from the IHOP and is sitting out in the room, eating a stack of banana pancakes. Rolf is standing next to the open door so he can listen in.

—I had some trouble.

—Is that what you call trouble, Hank? Because if it is . . .

He breathes deeply.

—OK, this isn’t doing either of us any good. It does nobody any good for me to lose my temper. What we need to do here is evaluate the situation. Our problem is that as long as your parents are with the police, my employees cannot reach them. I can see where this might give you comfort, but what you need to remember is that it also removes my leverage with you. Which increases my legal and economic exposure. Which makes me nervous and more inclined to take aggressive action once your parents are released. Now, why don’t you tell me what happened and we’ll come up with some strategies to fix our problem?

How much to tell him?

—I went to see a friend. These guys I scrapped with in San Diego showed up. I think they figured out who I am and were looking for some reward money or something.

—I know that, Hank, I can get that information from the TV at this point. They most certainly do know who you are, and now the police and the FBI and the national media know that you are still alive and at large.

Oh, God.

—We can solve this, Hank, we can. Where are you now?

—I’m on my way to get the money.

—Where? The police said they found your car, so where are you?

I look at Rolf looking at me, listening to my end of the conversation.

—I got out of town, Dylan, that’s all you need.

—Hank! Hank, are you now telling me what I need to know? Because if you are. . . . If you are trying to tell me what I need to know, then I have to tell you that you are very much mistaken. The police have not charged your parents and even if they do, it seems unlikely that they will have any trouble making bail, seeing as they are such pillars of the community. Trust me Hank, they will not be safely in police custody for long. Now, I would rather not do so, but if I do not have some assurances soon I will be forced to secure my leverage at the earliest possible opportunity, Hank. I will be forced to take custody of your parents until our business is concluded one way or another.

I close my eyes.

Mom and Dad.

I open my eyes.

—Dylan, I’m out of Patterson. I’m on the road and undercover and on my way to get the money. All you need to do is sit tight and I will take care of everything. I have some experience in this, after all.

He’s quiet for a moment.

—That’s a good point, Hank. Very well put. Experience is invaluable when the rubber hits the road. OK. OK. This is me, this is my weakness. I try to micromanage. You just can’t do that and expect your people to do their job properly. But now, now I do need to establish a timeline. I was willing to work without a clock before this, but now . . . we need some targets.

—Like what?

—It’s . . . eight forty-seven PM, Tuesday night. Let’s call it nine PM. I want my money in five days. And, so there is no confusion, that means in my hands no later than nine PM this coming Sunday. Understood?

—Yes.

—And, I’m sorry to ask for this, but I’ll also want progress reports. That means at least one call every twenty-four hours. Understood?

—Yes.

—OK. Well, that looks like it. Hank, I want to thank you for being patient while I blew off steam and I want to thank you for your problem-solving skills. Thank you.

—Sure.

—And . . . I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

He hangs up. Rolf points at the phone.

—Dude?

—This guy is keeping an eye on my folks for me. I owe him some money for it.

He nods his head.

—Money.

—Yeah.

—There gonna be enough for both of us?

—Yeah, there’ll be enough.

But there isn’t. Dylan wants it all, and Rolf will want it all, too, when he finds out how much there is. The difference is that Dylan has Mom and Dad. Rolf just has Henry Thompson, and I don’t care much what happens to him.

I get myself to my feet. I wobble and Rolf puts a hand on my arm.

—What now?

What now?

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