“Had to give the alcohol time to take effect.”
They entered through the back deck. Tables pushed together again in the middle of the room. The Okeechobee Coin & Stamp Show.
Serge and Coleman proceeded directly to a pair of empty stools at the bar. A draft and bottled water arrived.
Coleman toasted his buddy. “Pretty cool joint.”
“One of the coolest.” Serge pointed above rows of bottles behind the bartender, where three-sided bay windows provided a panorama of the darkening swamp. “That’s my number one rule for bars: All the best have views behind the bottles, like the revolving lounge at Tampa International or the top of La Concha in Key West. Except those have views over stuff. This is even better, looking out from inside the swamp.”
Coleman signaled for a refill. “Where’s Story? I almost forgot about her.”
“Studying back at the motel.”
“I didn’t see her at the motel, either.”
“Got her a separate room.”
“What for?”
“Our relationship is progressing more rapidly than I’d anticipated. We’re getting on each other’s nerves.”
“How do you know it’s the relationship? Men and women do that anyway.”
“You’re right,” said Serge. “But she’s also started using sex as a weapon.”
“What’s that?”
“Remember how the Romans built their empire by laying siege to a city? Think of that with guest towels.”
“Can I use sex as a weapon?”
“You already do, except in your case it’s a nuclear deterrent.”
“But she’s still hanging with us, right?”
“She’s still with us, just won’t be around as often now that classes are about to start at the college.”
Coleman turned toward the crowd at the tables. “Where’s Steve?”
“Over there on the end.”
“Why didn’t you meet with him before, right after we saw him talking with those guys you left in the pigpen?”
“Because the Master Plan has to evolve and constantly change its approach, or the gang will scatter before I have a chance to pick off a satisfying number.”
“So how’d you convince Steve to meet?”
“Oh, he doesn’t know we’re meeting. That’s why this has to be handled very delicately. My gambit must be completely …”
Coleman stuck two fingers in his mouth and made a shrill whistle. “Yo! Steve!” Big waving motion with his arm. “Over here!” (,
“… subtle. Thanks, Coleman.”
Steve came over and gave the pair a look of non-recognition. “Do I know you?”
“Met a bunch of times,” said Serge. “Hotel bars.”
Steve didn’t like the vibe. “Sorry, you got the wrong guy. I don’t know you.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“I remember you now.” He grabbed a stool. “Bart?” “Serge.”
Steve raised a finger to the bartender. “Double Chivas on the rocks, his tab.” He turned to Serge. “So how’s business been?”
“Business is wonderful! Couldn’t be better! So good, in fact, that I have a proposition for you.”
Steve laughed. “I’ve heard this come-on before. Should have known: There’s no such thing as a free drink.”
“Seriously,” said Serge. “My business is taking off.”
“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” said Steve. “Your business was…”
Serge leaned and lowered his voice. “I fix problems. Heard you have a big one.”
Steve cocked his head back with a new expression. “Who are you, really?”
“Close friend of Howard Long.”
“Howard?”
“The guy who sold vintage Florida souvenirs at your shows.”
“Ohhhhh.” Steve began nodding. “I remember him. Great kid. Just terrible what happened to him. Absolute shame, the decline of this state.”
“Interesting perspective since you were in on it.”
“Huh? Me? …”-pointing over-innocently at his own chest- “… What are you talking about. I barely knew the guy.”
“You recruited him to be a courier. He told me in the hospital,” said Serge. “But I could always be wrong. I’ll check with the police-“
“Okay, okay, look …” Steve glanced around, then scooted closer. “I lied about not knowing him because the whole courier thing is very confidential and I don’t know who you guys are. But if you say he told you at the hospital … I mean, you understand my position.”
“I understand your position. Ten percent.”
“What?”
“More or less. But ten would be the standard cut for fingering Howard.”
“I have no idea what you’re-“
“You recruited him, and he gets hit on the first run. What are the odds? Nobody knew where he was staying or that he was holding. Except you.”
Steve shook his head and got off his stool. “Thanks for the drink.”
Serge raised the edge of his tropical shirt, revealing a pistol butt. “Don’t be rude.”
Steve sat back down and became verbally incontinent. “… I’m so sorry. It was all a mistake. He wasn’t even supposed to be in the room. These guys are crazy. They’ll kill me. I just want to sell coins. You’re not going to kill me, are you? I’m so sorry …”
“Get a grip. And stop crying-you’re attracting attention.”
He sniffled and wiped his eyes.
“That’s better.” Serge handed him a napkin. “Nobody’s going to kill you. At least I’m not. But you have to do me a favor.”
Steve blew his nose. “What is it?”
“I’m guessing right about now the gang is pretty pissed at you for the two guys they lost going after your last target.”
“You know about that?”
Serge smiled.
“Oh my God!”
