Decker nursed his beer and bided his time. He looked at them without seeming to. In addition to the number tag, to him she was outlined in orange, the guy in purple, the same color he associated with zero, an unwelcome digit. So the guy really represented two numbers to him—six and zero. It seemed complicated, he knew, but he had no difficulty keeping it straight because it was just there in his head as clear as an image in a mirror.
And it wasn’t that he saw them exactly in those colors. It was the perception of those colors. That was the best and only way he could explain the sensation. It wasn’t like they taught a class on this. And he had come to it relatively late in the game. He was just doing the best he could. After all, he thought he’d left the world of Crayola back in kindergarten.
They continued with their lovey-dovey, hand-holding, foot-rubbing, heavy-petting afternoon fun and games. She obviously wanted more. He was unwilling to give it, because you teased a mark. Rushing could only mean bad things. And this guy was good. Not the best Decker had seen, but serviceable. He probably made a decent living.
For a purple zero.
Decker knew the guy was waiting to make an ask. A loan for a business prospect that couldn’t miss. Some tragedy in his extended family that needed financial remedy. He wouldn’t want to do it. Hated himself for it. But this was his last resort. She was his last chance. And he didn’t expect her to understand. Or say yes. The debate framed that way, what other answer could she give? Except, “Yes, my darling. Take double. Triple even. Daddy will never miss it. It’s only money, after all. His money.”
An hour and two more pink martinis later, she left him there. Her parting kiss was tender and moving, and he reacted in just the right way, until she turned away and his expression changed. From one of reciprocal tenderness and love to one of triumph and some might even say cruelty. At least that’s what Decker would say.
Decker did not like interacting with people. He preferred his own company. He hated idle conversation because he no longer understood its point. But this was part of what he did. This was how he paid the bills. So he told himself to get over it. At least for now.
Because it was time to punch the clock.
He carried his beer over to the table in time to put a massive hand on the man’s shoulder and push him back into the seat he was just about to vacate.
Decker sat across from him, eyed the man’s untouched whiskey sour—predators didn’t drink on the job—and then raised his own beer in praise.
“Nice work. I like to see a real pro on the job.”
The man said nothing at first. He eyed Decker, sizing up his unkempt appearance and looking unfavorably impressed.
“Do I know you?” he said at last, his tone snarky. “Because I don’t see how that’s possible.”
Decker sighed. He had expected something a bit original. It was apparently not to be. “No, and you don’t have to know me. All you have to do is look at these.”
He pulled the manila envelope from his coat pocket and passed it across.
The man hesitated but then picked it up.
Decker took a drink of his beer and said, “Open it.”
“Why should I?”
“Fine, then don’t open it. No sweat off here.”
He went to take the envelope, but the man jerked it out of reach. He undid the binding and slid out the half dozen photos.
“First rule of a con, Slick,” said Decker. “Don’t play on the sidelines while you’re on a job. And when I said you were a pro I was being charitable.”
His hand reached out and he tapped the photo on top. “She doesn’t have enough clothes on and neither do you. And by the way, that particular act is illegal in pretty much all states south of the Mason-Dixon.”
The man glanced up, his look one of caution. “How did you get these?”
Again, Decker felt disappointed by the query. “So now it’s just a matter of negotiation. I’m authorized to give you fifty thousand bucks. In return, you write this one off and move on to someone else. In another state.”
The man smiled, slid the photos back, and said, “If you thought these were a real problem for me, why not just show them to her? Why come here and offer me a way out with cash?”
Decker sighed once more and for the third time felt disappointed. This guy was just not a challenge. He collected the photos and put them back neatly in the envelope.
“You read my mind, Slick. Exactly what I told her old man. Thanks for validating my opinion. The girl’s very religious, by the way. What you’re doing to the lady in that third picture is a deal killer, in addition to the fact that she’s your wife. Have a good one.”
He rose to leave, but the man clutched at his arm. “I can hurt you,” he said.
Decker took the man’s fingers and bent them back until he gasped, and then and only then did Decker let go.
He said, “I’m fat, but I’m two of you and a whole lot meaner. I don’t have to have a pretty face to do what I do. But you do. So if I take you out back and smash it in, what does that do for your future cash flow? You see my point?”
The man held his injured hand and paled. “I’ll take the money.”
“Great. I have the check for twenty-five grand right here.”
“You said it was fifty thousand!”
“That was only if you pulled the trigger when I asked. You didn’t. The consequences are your return goes down by half.”
The man sat there looking stunned.
Decker put the recorder away and pushed the one-way ticket toward the guy. “We’ll let you keep this. Be sure your butt is on the plane. The next guy they send out will be even bigger than me, and it won’t just be your fingers he cracks. It’ll be you.”
The man said pitifully, “Are you telling me I get none of the money?”
Decker stood. “Like I said, what a genius you are.”
Chapter