The Finishing School

37

BUD HAD a new cell phone in a fake name, to take Jay’s incoming calls. The way things had heated up lately, you couldn’t be too careful. No point in getting caught now. He planned to make it to payday, and Friday was only forty-eight hours away.

The fucking thing was already ringing as he walked in the door to the apartment. He glanced at the caller ID. What a surprise-Jay’s cell. Some wannabe kingpin this guy was! He couldn’t do a goddamn thing on his own.

“Yeah?” Bud said.

“Look, I think we might got a situation. I’m not sure,” Jay said, a roar of music and voices behind him. He must be at Screen.

“What?” Bud asked.

“Kid’s in here asking around about one of Whitney’s friends.”

“By name?”

“He says Carmen.”

Bud was silent for a moment.

“Well?” Jay demanded.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking.” He sighed. “What’s the kid look like?”

“Real freak. Pierced up the wazoo, dreads, the whole nine yards.”

Okay, him. Now Bud had a clearer picture of what was going on.

“Did he say anything else?” Bud asked.

“Yeah, actually. Wants to score some H.”

“You should really be more careful what you say over the phone, you know, Jay.”

“Far as I’m concerned, anybody listening can suck my dick.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. You better hope nobody is.” We both better, Bud thought. His mind was racing, thinking about what the kid’s angle might be here. He had his suspicions, and if they were on target, action needed to be taken. Fast. “Listen, Jay. If the kid’s into all that, you think maybe he wants to make a quick buck?”

“What, like Friday?”

“Why not?”

“I thought you had a girl lined up.”

“It’s always good to have a fallback. This is why I was a better Boy Scout than you. Be prepared.”

“You were a fucking pansy, is what you were.”

“It was a joke, for Chrissakes. But about this pierced kid, I think we should chill out. It doesn’t mean anything, him asking around about shit. Whitney hung out at the club, maybe some of her friends did, too. So what?”

“That’s it? I coulda thought of that myself.”

“What do you want me to say? Ice the kid?”

“Nah, you’re right. That would draw unnecessary attention.”

“You bet your ass it would.”

“Were you serious, though, about Friday?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I mean, why the fuck not?”

“It’d never work! You gotta see this kid. He’s a walking advertisement for profiling.”

“What if you cut his hair?”

“He’s got a real crazy tattoo down the side of his face.”

“So? If the feds are watching, they’ll be looking for rich girls, not freaks with dreadlocks.”

“Huh. Well, you got a point. Okay, maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. We can at least give it a shot. I’ll have Lamar chat him up, see if he bites.”

“Good. Now, what about that other thing we talked about before?”

“I sent Pavel to take care of it. He’s out now. Haven’t heard. It might not go because of the weather.”

“Huh. That’s not good.”

“I don’t know why you’re so hot to take action on that front. Talk about drawing unnecessary attention.”

“That one’s worth worrying about.”

“Like I said, I don’t see it, and I don’t get why the rush all of a sudden. But if it makes you happy, Buddy boy, I’ll indulge ya for old times’ sake.”

“I appreciate it, Jay,” Bud said calmly. And it’ll be one of the last things you ever do, you condescending prick. I fucking make you, with all the ideas I feed you, and this is how you talk to me? You’ll get yours.