Jack Daniels and Associates: Snake Wine
Page 17
Frank downed his own drink, then stuck his hand in his suit coat to pull out his phone. "I want to show you guys something."
"Nobody wants to see pictures of your winky," Phin said.
Frank shook his head as he scrolled through his pictures to find a perfectly framed image of Keenan "Ack Trife" Marvin bent over a table getting his ass beat by a dozen prison guards. "This one's my favorite," he said, sliding his finger over to reveal a close-up of Marvin's wide open mouth, screaming in pain. The diamonds and gold embedded in his teeth sparkled in the light of Frank's flash.
"Well that explains how he got all those bruises," I said.
Frank tucked his phone away and said, "Listen, I know it wasn't the ideal resolution today, but it was for the best. Marvin won't be able to set foot anywhere near Chicago for the rest of his miserable life. If he does, he'll get juiced like a bag of tomatoes by every gang-banger from here to New York."
"So it's better that he gets to go chill out by some pool in California on our dime?" I countered, my anger rising.
"Do you seriously think a shitbird like Marvin is going to be able to hold onto that gig? Listen to me, people don't change. In less than a year, he's going to get greedy and pull some stunt. It happens all the time. Then, the Feds are gonna cut him loose and he'll be out there in the wind with no money and no protection. He'll come back to his old haunts – it's what losers like him do every day, and when he does, that will be the end of Keenan Marvin. He'll be like a cork in the Chicago River. Trust me."
"Hey, not to break up the fun images, but I thought we were relaxing tonight," Phin said. "All you people do is talk about work, work, work."
"You're right," I said, smacking the table. I held up my drink and said, "To the best partners a girl could ask for in a tight spot." Phin's eyes twinkled mischievously, and as he opened his mouth to say something, I smacked him and said, "Shut up."
Frank downed his drink and said, "Only two more hours until I gotta get to the airport. I'm taking a red eye home. I've got a wife and two little girls to surprise tomorrow morning."
"Two hours?" Phin said. "Imagine how much trouble we can all get into in two hours. We're like the Three Musketeers now, ain't we?"
"Not me," I said. "It'll have to be the Two Musketeers. Me, I've got a date."
"A what?" they both said at once.
"A date."
"Like, with a real person? Or is this another one of those battery-operated, quiet night with Fifty Shades of Grey kind of dates?" Phin elbowed Frank and smirked.
Frank looked at Phin and shook his head, "There is something so seriously wrong with you, it would take a team of shrinks decades to figure it out. They could write papers about you."
"I'm one of a kind, pal," Phin said with a shrug. "So who's the lucky dude?"
"I don't know if I'd call him lucky," I said. "More like, the poor bastard." With that, Joel Roth came through the front door and stood by the doorman, searching the room for me. I held up my hand and waved to him, showing him where I was.
"That guy?" Phin said, scowling. "He looks like a college kid."
"Isn't that the state's attorney?" Frank said.
"Yeah. So?" I said. "Listen, he's coming over here. Both of you shut up and be nice."
Phin and Frank got out of their seats as Joel Roth came into the bar area, both men turning to face Roth with hard, steely stares. "Hi, Jack," Joel said, looking me up and down in a way that told me he approved of my new look. "I didn't know we'd be having company."
"Oh, we're not company," Phin said.
"We're the bodyguards," Frank said. "As in, we are guarding the body, so don't get any ideas."
Joel laughed nervously, waiting to see if they would too. They didn't.
I handed Joel my coat and purse and said, "Go grab our table, and I'll meet you there. These two are going to look after themselves tonight."
"All right," Joel said, turning to look at both of them before heading back into the dining area.
"I don't like the look of him," Phin said.
"He meets sixteen identifiable traits of a serial killer," Frank said. "You should go home, Jack. We'll walk you there."
I laughed and put my arms around Phin, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. "Will you drive Frank to the airport?"
"I guess," Phin sighed. "As long as he promises to keep his hands to himself."
"You wish," Frank said. He opened his arms to me and said, "I called my old boss today. He's been asking me to come in and talk to him but I was avoiding him. It seems like they made some changes that I can probably live with."
I put my hand on his face and said, "You belong on the Job, Frank. It's who you are. And hey, thanks for all you've done, really."
Before I could leave, Phin reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of gray powder. He palmed it in his hand and said, "Before you go, why don't we all do a line of this snake venom. This stuff is no joke, man. I'm serious."
Frank snatched the vial out of his hand, saying, "Are you insane?"
"What? I grabbed it from that lady's warehouse. Jack told us doctors use it in Africa as painkillers. It's holistic, Frank. All natural. I already snorted two of those since yesterday, and I feel awesome."
"I'm not riding to the airport with you," Frank said.
"Suit yourself, sissy pants."
I left them bickering and headed into the restaurant, looking for Joel. He was sitting in a nice, quiet corner that was dimly lit with warm light. I was a little surprised he hadn't run out screaming into the night, but no … here he was patiently waiting for me. It was going to be a good meal with a few drinks and some pleasant, light conversation. I didn't expect much to come of it, and that was all right. It was enough to be out on the town, to be free and alive in the city of Chicago with everybody I knew and loved safe, at least for the time being.
After dinner, I was going to politely excuse myself and thank Joel for a pleasant evening. If things went well, I'd even agree to do it again sometime. There was no room to consider anything else at that point. I had taken off from work for a few days to do nothing more than sit around my house in my pajamas and decompress. To hide from all the craziness in the world. Everybody in Chicago was just going to have to figure things out for themselves until I got back.
And God help the person who bothers me while I'm trying to get some sleep.
The End
About the Author
Bernard Schaffer is the author of multiple books that span a wide variety of genres, including literature, police procedurals, and science fiction westerns. He has worked on several projects with famous authors such as Harlan Ellison, Alan Dean Foster, and Bill Thompson (the editor who discovered Stephen King and John Grisham).
Recently, he collaborated with J.A. Konrath on two books that feature Konrath's best-selling Lt. Jack Daniels characters, and ones from Schaffer's own Superbia series.
A lifelong resident of the Philadelphia area, he is the proud father of two children.
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