The Kings Of Cool

29

Duane Crowe finds a seat at the bar at T.G.I. Friday’s (Thank God It’s Friday’s) and takes it.

T.G.I. Friday’s is practically a club for fortysomething divorced guys. You get a burger, a beer, I don’t know, some nachos, and kill time trying to find a fortysomething divorced woman who’s as lonely and horny as you are. Which is a dubious proposition to begin with.

It ain’t a great life, but it’s the one he’s got.

He’s scoping the place out for possibilities when he sees Boland squeeze his way into the crowded bar. “Squeeze,” because Bill Boland is built like a refrigerator and is one of the reasons that 24 Hour Fitness is open twenty-four hours.

Boland takes the stool next to Crowe and says, “Nice T-shirt. ‘Old Guys Rule.’”

“My niece gave it to me for my birthday,” Crowe says. “You get Hennessy straightened out?”

“He won’t be waltzing through TSA anytime soon,” Boland says. “They put a pin in his arm. Guy did a number on him.”

They had worked dumbass Brian and his crew into ripping off one of Leonard’s dealers to see what he’d do.

Now they knew.

Something else they know: before they make another move on Leonard, the other guy has to go.

“You get an ID?” Crowe asks.

“Working on it,” Boland says. “Word is he’s some kind of Special Forces stud. SEALs or Green Berets or something.”

“Green Berets? They still got them?”

“I think.”

The other reason they meet in T.G.I. Friday’s is because it’s crowded and loud. Television up high, people yapping-you get a mike on this place, all you’re going to pick up is noise. And if someone’s wearing a wire it’s more likely to get some guy lying to a chick about his job than something a grand jury is going to get geeked about.

“What do the Powers That Be say?” Boland asks.

“What they always say,” Crowe answers. “‘Deal with it.’”

Deal with it and send us our fucking money. The Powers That Be don’t eat in franchises, they own them.

“This Leonard kid?” Crowe says. “He’s a piece of work-a real cocky asshole. Get on him, see if he slips on the banana peel.”

Boland looks at the menu. “You had the burgers here?”

Crowe surveys the line of divorcees at the bar.

“I’ve had everything here.”