“You done thinking yet?” Jack demanded a minute later. In the blink of an eye he was on the floor, looking up at his wiry friend.
“Yeah. Serves you right. You know better than to talk to me when I’m thinking.” Harry reached down for Jack’s hand to pull him to his feet. And then Harry was on the floor, with Jack straddling his chest. “Say it!”
“Up yours! You’re a wuss, Emery!”
They went at it for a good fifteen minutes until both men collapsed, with no real winner. Huffing and puffing, both of them got to their feet, their eyes wary until Jack roared, “Enough! That was my workout for the day.”
Harry extended his hand. “Pretty good, Emery. In ten years, you might be almost as good as I am.”
“My ass. It was a draw. You want to drive tomorrow or should I?”
“We’ll make better time on my cycle. Your call.”
“Whatever gets us there the quickest,” Jack said.
“Then it’s the Ducati,” Harry said, all smiles and sunshine.
“You are a piece of work, Harry Wong.”
“You know, Jack, you are absolutely right. I am. And you are one damn lucky son of a bitch to have me as a friend.”
Jack knew there was no way he could ever win an argument with Harry, so he let it drop. “Listen, I have to get to court. How about calling Bert and filling him in? Ask him if he wants to go to the mountain with us. I’m not sure about Maggie or Ted. I’m thinking they’re going to be rather busy in the next few days. You know how Maggie loves a good headline.”
“OK, I’ll call Bert. You want some tea to go?”
“What? You gonna slip something in it so I fall asleep in court?” Jack asked in pretended outrage.
“Never happen.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2009 by Fern Michaels
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ISBN: 1-4201-1059-4
13. Under the Radar Page 23