Pops sat in the easy chair and squeezed a slice of lime into his Corona bottle. He drank a couple of swallows and patted his pocket for the cigarettes he’d given up years ago. Old habits are hard to break. I watched him from the corner of my eye. What was his angle?
“So, what have you been up to lately? Anything lucrative?”
Ah, there was the angle. He needed money.
“Why, you know I won’t lend and sure won’t give you any cash.”
“Now, Darlin’ girl o’ mine, don’t be that way. You haven’t seen your old man in, what is it, {} years, and all you can say is you won’t lend me money?” He drank some more beer, patted his pocket again. “Did I say I needed your dough?”
“Didn’t have to.” I squeezed lime juice into my bottle and set the fruit on an empty cut-glass candy dish Mrs. M had on the coffee table. I sipped from the long-neck and watched Pops over the top of the bottle.
“You’re breakin’ my heart,” he said. Then he sat forward and slapped the arms of his chair. “He’s stealing, you son-of-a-bitch. Stop scratching your crotch and play ball!”
So much for a broken heart. We watched the game for a couple of innings without conversation about anything but baseball.
“I’m bored,” Pops said out of the blue.
“So, you looked me up to entertain you?”
“Now, come on sugar. We had some fun times. You can’t deny it,” he said. He’d finished his beer and got up for another. From the kitchen, he hollered, “Want another?”
“No, barely started this one.”
“Turning into a tea-totler on me?” he asked as he eased back into the recliner. The commercial ended and he sat riveted to the television until the next break.
“How much you got riding on this game?” I asked.
“You don’t want to know.” I watched him pat for cigarettes again. I wondered if I should get him some vaping supplies but quickly put the thought out of my mind. No need to have him inhale nicotine in any form if he was able to avoid it.
“I’m not bailing you out if they lose.”
“Who says I bet on the ‘stros?”
“Really? You come to my house and bet against the home team?”
“Nah, just trying to get your goat,” he said. I noticed he’d finished his second beer already. I was craving a joint, but didn’t want to hear his lecture about it being a gateway drug. I’d heard it all before.
“How long you staying?”
“Told you I’m bored. Got any action I can help with? Something to get the old blood moving again?”
Against my better judgement, I said, “Might.”
He sat forward and his eyes lit up. “Tell me.”
“I’ve been stealing cars and splitting the money with this dude,” I started.
“Piece of cake. Not very exciting,” he said. He sat back and picked up the bottle, found it empty and sat it back down.
“Let me finish.”
He rolled his hands in an impatient gesture.
“So, I recently found out the guy’s into all kinds of nasty stuff.”
“Like?” The hand rolling again.
“Like human trafficking, hard drugs, who knows, could be murder if someone got in his way.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Now that you’re here, I’m thinking we might pull a sting. He gets his just desserts and I get the FBI off my back. By the way, they tell me they’re on to you too.”
“No effin’ way,” he said, but his head shake wasn’t convincing. He was worried.
“Maybe this would get you off their radar too.”
“Tell me about him.”
Good, I had him hooked.
“Gangsta all the way. Drives a low-rider Buick with five-inch pokes and swangers. Music so loud it’ll take your ear drums out. Speakers are crap and it sounds like an animal caught in a bear trap. Smokes in his car, if you can believe that.” One of Pop’s rules had always been no smoking in his vehicles. He’d stink up the house all day, but his cars were sacrosanct.
“Sounds like a big ego. We could use that to our advantage.”
“My thought, exactly.”
“So how do we play this?”
“He’s tapped, just like my place, so we have to meet up with him when he’s out of his penthouse.”
“Penthouse? Damn and I’ve been living in my car for a week. That why we’re over here instead of at your place?”
“Yep. Stay with me here. The guy’s got bouncers at the door, state-of-the-art wireless security system, the works. No good going there. FBI will be staked out. Not the sharpest bunch, but they’re persistent.”
“OK, so what are his habits?”
We spent the next couple of hours alternating between watching the game and planning our next moves.