Page 68 of Down and Dirty

“Who is she? Is she pretty? I hear she’s tall enough to be a model. Make sure you don’t flub this one up.”

“Flub? What’s a flub?” Is it anything like that other F word?

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“So, who did I flub before?”

“Every relationship you’ve ever had was a flub. You’re like a bee buzzing from one flower to another. Be careful, or you’ll lose your stinger someday, and then where will you be?”

My stinger is just fine, thank you very much.

“I bought the cutest Muppets underpants for Sammy today. I’ll mail them tomorrow.”

Zach had to smile at that. The kid was already unhappy about superhero briefs… and the wedgies they gave him. What was he gonna think about Miss Piggy riding his too-too?” Too-too had been his mother’s word for penis when he and Danny were kids.

He figured he better return his father’s call, as well. Not wanting to play favorites with the other family members.

“Hiiiii!” a female voice answered, sounding about sixteen years old to his father’s fifty-six. Actually, Bridget was more like twenty-five. Women were attracted to his dad because of his wealth and influence in the television industry, but Zach had to admit, his father was also a good-looking man for his age — and very charming. Genetic traits, he liked to think.

“Hi, Bridget. Is my father there?”

She giggled. “He’s… uh, sleeping, ya know.” Giggle, giggle. “I could wake him up, ya know, if it’s really important.”

“That’s all right. Just tell him I called.”

The lights off, he went up the stairs, first checking on Sammy, who was dead to the world. It had been a long day for him. He leaned down and kissed the brat’s forehead. He smelled of cotton candy and kid. In so many ways, Zach missed being free, as he had been a few short months ago, but he realized now that he wouldn’t give up his son for all the freedom in the world.

The cordless phone rang again, and he rushed out of the room before Sammy awakened, closing the door halfway behind him. He recognized the security company number on the caller ID.

“Elliott Samboro here. Exeter Termite Control,” one of the partners in Vortex said in a gruff voice befitting the former Marine. Elliott Samboro was his code name; his real name was Tony Siliano.

“What’s up?”

“Mr. Floyd, you have a serious roach problem.”

“How serious?”

“I think we should talk about it in person. Better I should show you.”

Uh-oh. Siliano’s words told him, in code, that the line was being bugged. How that happened when they’d done sweeps twice a day was scary. Arsallah’s men were better skilled than he’d imagined. “Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. There’ll be three reps there, early.”

Three reps meant that Vortex was upping the security surveillance.

“And, by the way, you should check over anyone entering or leaving your house till we get the problem corrected. Roaches can attach themselves to clothing or things, like grocery bags or briefcases or stuffed animals.”

Stuffed animals? Oh, shit! Arsallah’s goons followed us to Disneyland.

“Can they be here early… like seven thirty? I’ve got some other appointments.”

“Yep.”

Zach quickly called the commander’s house and left a message for Madrene not to come tomorrow to babysit, that he’d made other plans. He figured it would be safer to have Wilson and Danny inside, with the Vortex guys on the outside, for the time being.

He was down to his briefs but decided to backtrack to the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses before heading to the bathroom… and paradise.

Britta was in the same position, lying back, asleep, in the tub, which was surprisingly still full of bubbles. There was a frown on her face, though, and occasionally her body jerked as if she was dreaming about something unpleasant.