“Don’t they all?”
I looked at her some more. The hangover got in the way, but I still found her attractive. I always felt like she found me convenient rather than attractive.
“So you’re available again?” I said.
“Who said I’m available?”
“Just guessing. B-B-B-Barry’s out of the picture, and your body language has an allure to it, that unmistakable seductive, sensuous come-hither quality. That’s usually a good sign.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Neither do I, but it worked the last time I used it.”
She laughed, got up, refilled my coffee, and went to see about my breakfast.
While I waited, Rodney came in and sat down.
“I thought you’d be here,” he said. “Here’s the name and address you wanted.”
He handed me a sheet of paper with the name Mario Vitole scrawled on it along with a phone number and an address in a residential section on the south side of town.
“Vitole. Sounds like a wise guy. Good work, Rodney. Didn’t take that long.”
“Yeah, it was easy. The guy’s mail server is local. Here in town. It runs under an old version of Linux. I got in by downloading the password file and decrypting—”
“That’s okay. You want breakfast?”
“No, I had a Hershey Bar and a Coke.”
“Don’t talk like that when I’m hung over. Here’s your next assignment.”
I took out Buford’s card, took a napkin from the dispenser, and copied down Buford’s cell phone number.
“Can you find out where the owner of this cell phone lives based on the number? It’s our client’s cell.”
“You don’t know where your client lives?”
“No. He keeps a lot to himself. Can you get his address?”
Rodney shrugged and put the napkin in his pocket. “I can do better than that. If he’s got the GPS turned on, I can find out where he is at any time.”
“That works. Wherever he spends his nights is probably his house. It’ll be in the Heights. But how can you do that? Without too much geek-speak, please. Can anyone do it?”
I was thinking about my own cell phone and whether I could be tracked too.
“No. You need software. The FBI has it on their main server.”
“And of course you can get into the FBI’s server.” Nothing about Rodney’s computer skills surprised me any more.
“Easy. I’ve done it a bunch of times. You start by—”
“Can I turn off the GPS in my own phone?”
“Yes. In the Settings app.”
He took my phone and showed me how to disable the GPS.
“And that prevents the FBI and geeks like you from tracking me?”
“Sure does.”
“Good to know. Okay, try to get this guy’s home address. Get back to me when you got it.”
Rodney got up to leave. I said, “Sit down. There’s one more thing.”
He sat.
“Our client is being blackmailed. The owner of that e-mail address you hacked is the blackmailer. He uses an OnlinePay account for the payoffs. You know what that is?”
“Yep.”
“Can you hack into that account?”
“Yep. I just need to—”
“What can you do once you’ve hacked in there?”
“I can do anything he can do. Get the balance, send money to someone, transfer money to another account, and like that. You see, the service’s main server—”
“Don’t do it yet. But we might need to later. I’ll be back in the office after breakfast.”
Speaking of breakfast, Bunny brought it. She sat it down in front of me, looked at Rodney, and read the inscription on his taco shirt. She almost choked and snorted to keep from laughing, turned, and hurried back into the kitchen.
After Rodney left, I looked carefully at my breakfast. The sight and smell of bacon and eggs probably would have made me hurl right there in the diner, but Bunny had been gentle. Oatmeal, cantaloupe, and a slice of unbuttered wheat toast.
Why do we call it “unbuttered?” It makes it sound like the toast was previously buttered and someone removed the butter. It should be “non-buttered.” Same with “unsweetened.” I worry about shit like that.
Bunny came out of the kitchen and sat down across from me.
“Enjoy. You want to talk?”
“You talk,” I said, my mouth full of non-buttered toast. “I’ll chew.”
She pushed forward so that her tits rested on the tabletop. I kind of choked on a swallow of oatmeal. She knew what she was doing.
“About me being available. I guess I am. You interested?”
Here we go again. I swallowed the oatmeal, washed it down with coffee, wiped my mouth with a napkin, and looked her in the face, not easy to do when her boobs were rubbing back and forth on the table and showing their cleavage inside her non-buttoned blouse. She had that doe-eyed look that always made me wilt. She knew it too.
“You know, Bunny, we’ve been down this road before.”
“Yeah, and maybe we’ll go down it again. And maybe not.” She pulled away from the table, looked around the diner and ran her hand through her hair. “I’m getting a little long in the tooth, Stan. I’m not the hottie I used to be. You got a better chance of hanging on to me now.”
Bunny had given me a picture of herself in a two-piece bathing suit. I kept it in my desk drawer. With the onset of middle age, she had gone down a few notches on the Bo Derrick scale and had to lower her standards and go out with guys like me. Until she found better, that is. Then it would turn into the old maybe-we-should-see-other-people, let’s-stay-friends routine. What could you do?
I shook my head. “It sure flatters a guy when a woman wants him only because she’s too old to attract younger men.”
“I thought you’d feel that way. I’m sorry. You want to go out for a drink tonight?”
“I quit drinking?”
“Bullshit. When?”
“About a half hour ago when I realized that a fried egg would decorate the linoleum. So I’m off the sauce. It’s easier to give up than eating.”
“We’ve been down that road too.”
“Yes, we have.”
“Well, think about it. Stop by at quitting time if you’re willing. Since you’re on the wagon, maybe you can come by my place for a taco.”
She laughed again and returned to the kitchen.
Chapter 4
I finished my breakfast, left money on the table, and headed back across the street to the office. I felt better already. Must have been the healthy breakfast.
The day looked like a nice one for late autumn. It was chilly, and I pulled my trench coat around me, but the sun was shining, and the wind was down. I went in the building and climbed the stairs, an easier climb than this morning’s. I went in and took off my trench coat.
“Any messages, Willa?”
“Your sister called. Not urgent.”
“Anything left from that thousand?”
“No.”
“We still in debt?”
“Yes.”
I sounded out Willa on the Bunny situation.
“I got news. Bunny’s back on the market,” I said.
“So?”
“She wants me back.”
Willa sniffed. “That’s not news. For how long this time?”
I couldn’t answer that.
“You know how this is going to turn out,” she said. “Just like always.”
I didn’t want that debate so I changed the subject. “You think I’d be more attractive to women if I took up body building?”
“Maybe if you built one from scratch. Not much to work with there.” She laughed.
“Thanks a lot. I just don’t know how to hang onto a woman. Particularly one who goes for younger men.”
“Rogaine, a face lift, liposuction, and AA might help. Not in that order.”
Willa didn’t approve of my drinking. I didn’t want to get into that one either, so I went into my office.
Rodney was at my desk, his face in the laptop, his fingers tapping the keys faster than the notes in a Kenny G solo.