Page 25 of Dick

A robe and matching pajama pants. Plaid was the choice of the day.

Everything he did had a price attached to it. It didn’t matter how simple or how difficult the task, he simply did nothing for free. He was one of the last people I wanted to see, but his house was the only place I felt I could safely reach without wrecking the car or being arrested.

“How’s it hangin’, Dick?”

I stepped out of the car and nodded. “Low, as always. Appreciate this.”

He brushed his long greying hair behind his ears and peered over the top of the car. “God damn, Dick. Where’d you get this one?”

I waved my finger back and forth between them. “Jess, this is Drake. Drake, Jess.”

Dressed in her work clothes from the previous night, Jess walked around the front of the car, pushed the pistol into the waist of her shorts, and examined his attire. Her eyes fell to the hot dog. Drake poked the wiener in his mouth and held it between his teeth.

“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.

She seemed to weigh the risk. After a long pause, she shook his hand.

He eye-fucked her for a moment, took a bite of the hot dog, then turned to face me. “I’ll keep the Ferrari well-hidden for ya, and you can take the ‘Vette I just bought, but I need you to do something for me.”

What a surprise.

My heart was still racing a hundred miles an hour, and I wasn’t in the mood for Drake’s demands – but I wasn’t in a position to negotiate. “What’s that?”

He clutched the lapels of his robe, pulled it closed, and grinned. He shook the hotdog at me as he spoke. “Drop something off. But she’s staying here ‘till you get back.”

“Excuse me?” Jess snapped.

He turned toward Jess for an instant. “You’re staying here ‘till he gets back.”

Jess’ eyes shot to me. I shrugged and cleared my throat. “Where?”

“Chinatown.”

Fuck.

“Who?”

“What’s it matter?” he asked. “You owe me.”

“Who?”

“Duc.”

“Duc? Like The Duc?”

He nodded.

Fuck.

I tried to act like it didn’t matter. It mattered. A lot. I wondered how convincing I looked. “One delivery? That’s it?”

He poked the remaining hot dog in his mouth, chewed it, and responded before swallowing. “One drop off, and a pick up. An exchange, of sorts.”

He ran his fingers through his greasy hair while he finished chewing the wiener. His eyes told me what his mouth had yet to say. There was a reason he hadn’t done this deal yet; I was sure of it.

I kept my business out of Chinatown for a reason. “In and out deal, huh?”

He returned a smug grin. “In and out.”