The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [35]
I had a lone message. I called my voice mail and heard Sonny’s familiar voice.
“Hey, Jack. The excrement just hit the air-conditioning. Call me, man.”
I dialed the Sunset and Sonny picked up. His voice was drowned out by the dreadful singing of the Seven Dwarfs in the background. The same seven drunks had frequented the Sunset since I’d lived there. I called them the Seven Dwarfs because it was rare to see any of them standing upright.
“Hold on,” Sonny said.
Sonny screamed at the Dwarfs. The singing stopped. Sonny came back on.
“Do you miss me?” I asked.
Sonny laughed into the phone. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ralph came by and saw the damage Buster did to your room,” Sonny said. “He figures there’s about three thousand bucks in damages to the walls and furniture.”
“Come on, that stuff was old.”
“You know how Ralph likes to inflate things. He wanted to call the police and press charges, seeing how you never gave him a deposit when you took the place.”
“Oops.”
“I talked him out of it, thank you very much. We went downstairs to the bar, and I got him liquored up. I thought Ralph was going to forget about it, but then this asshole attorney named Frank Yonker came in. He had a subpoena for you.”
“Let me guess what happened next. Ralph and Frank Yonker got to talking, and discovered that they both had a shared interest in tracking me down. Yonker offered his services, and Ralph accepted.”
“Very good.”
“Did Ralph file a complaint with the police?”
“He sure did. Yonker now has two subpoenas with your name on them.”
My exit was up ahead. I flipped on my indicator and drifted into the right lane. Cars around me blared their disapproval, refusing to slow down.
“You on I-Ninety-five?” Sonny asked.
“How did you guess?”
“I’m a mind-reader. I tend bar for laughs.”
“Look, I want to ask you a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Is Ralph gone?”
“Yeah. I took him to the airport an hour ago. What’s the favor?”
“Can I sleep in my room tonight? I haven’t had time to find a place to stay, and I’m low on funds. Just for a couple of days until I find a new place.”
A long moment passed. Sonny had a comment for just about everything, and finally I pulled the phone away from my face, and looked at the screen.
The line was dead.
I pulled into the Bank Atlantic Center and killed several minutes looking for a parking place. Buster was not happy at my leaving, and crawled into my lap. I scratched his ears until I saw his tiny tail wag, then got out.
I approached the Center’s main entrance. A small mob of people congregated by the doors, chatting away while puffing on cigarettes. I called to them to find out what the score was.
“Florida State is down by six at the half,” a woman called back.
“How are they playing?” I asked.
“They’re holding their own,” the woman said.
I went inside. It was only natural that the Lady Seminoles would play poorly, considering the circumstances. Hearing that they were toughing it out made me proud of them.
I spotted one of the other player’s dads. He was a podiatrist named Robin Schwartz, and his daughter was the team’s star center. Schwartz carried a flimsy cardboard tray holding several cups of beer.
“Need some help?” I asked.
“Hey Jack, we were starting to worry about you,” Schwartz said.
I took three of the cups out of the tray, and held them between my fingers.
“Sounds like the game is close,” I said.
“The girls are playing great,” Schwartz said. “Your daughter is the top scorer.”
“Yay,” I said.
We headed toward the arena’s entrance. The sound of angry male voices carried from the other side of the lobby. People were hurrying away from the voices, which sounded ready to escalate into a fight.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“Karl Long is being interviewed by one of the TV stations,” Schwartz replied.
“What’s he yelling about?”
“The TV stations heard about Sara’s sex tapes. A reporter tried to ask him some questions