Scavenger hunt

Chapter 40

Darn it. Sugar slowly pulled the splinter out from the tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger, then flicked it out into the weeds surrounding the playhouse. He sucked at the wound and tasted copper. He smiled at the double entendre.

The playhouse was a small structure with a peaked roof about ten feet off the ground, with a ladder on one side and a long slide on the other. It was built of raw boards painted to look like logs, blistered by the sun now. FORT APACHE was stenciled onto the sides. There was room for about four or five kids, but Sugar filled it up, lying there on his belly, his legs sticking out the back as he peeked out the front entrance. Down the street he could see Jimmy Gage standing on the front porch of the blue rambler, talking to a woman in jeans and a white blouse. She looked familiar.

Sugar had followed Jimmy all the way from Huntington Beach to this godforsaken bump in the road, keeping fifteen or twenty miles back. He didn't even play the radio, listening instead to the beeping from the locator-receiver on the passenger seat. The transmitter attached to the undercarriage of Jimmy's car sent out a steady signal.

One of Sugar's old cop buddies had retired and gone to work for LoJack, an electronic tracking service that retrieved stolen cars equipped with the device. Last year Sugar had traded Vince a cooler full of bonita for one, and a demonstration of how to use it. Vince had winked, asked if Sugar had a girlfriend he thought was fooling around on him. Sugar had winked back, said you never knew when fancy gear would come in handy. It had come in handy too. After saving Jimmy's bacon that day at the marina, then driving him home when he was too beat up to drive himself, Sugar had hooked up Jimmy's car.

Sugar had been keeping tabs on Jimmy ever since. He just had to turn on the receiver in his own car and follow the blinking light on the map readout to know where Jimmy was. Following Jimmy over hill and dale, from one end of the county to the other was too much like work, though, and Sugar was retired. Catching those yellowjack a few nights ago, well, it was just flat-out relaxing hooking that first fish, hearing the line spool out as it headed off to freedom. Particularly after dealing with that Felix the Cat fellow.

Sugar adjusted his position, making sure that he stayed in the shadows, careful of splinters now. The playground was deserted, the basketball hoops bent, the swings rusted. Half the houses on the block were empty. He had spotted Jimmy's car parked in front of the blue rambler, made a U-turn, and parked on the next street, taking up his position in the clubhouse, where he had a good view and privacy. The houses on either side were boarded up. He didn't have to wait long until the front door opened and the two of them came out, dragging out their good-byes. Sugar rested his chin in his hands. He just knew he had seen the woman before.