“So anyway, I would love to meet with you.Your brother too, if possible.”
“Hank?Yeah, he lives a couple blocks away from me.I suppose we can meet with you, if there’s some business in it.”
“I promise you all my drywall business.I’m serious.And do you want to know how many buildings we have?”
“If you work for the Bellamys, I can imagine it’s quite a few.I appreciate the business, and I promise you’ll be satisfied with my work, or you don’t have to pay.”
Damn.He could do the shoddiest work in the world, and I wouldn’t care.I’ll pay whatever he wants.
“Can we meet, then?As soon as possible?”
“Sure.How about for breakfast tomorrow?”
“Great, my treat.”
“You know Francesca’s Diner off I-35?”
“I do.I’ll be there.Let’s say eight thirty a.m.?”
“Hank and I will be there.See you tomorrow.”
* * *
After visiting Eagle—stillunresponsive—at the hospital early and talking to his doctor on rounds, I head to the diner.
George and Hank are already there.I recognize George from his photo.Damn, he does look a lot like Ted probably would’ve looked by now.
I walk toward him, dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, and a western shirt.I need to look like a ranch foreman.
I kind of look like a ranch foreman anyway.
I head straight to their table.“George?”
He and Hank both rise.
I hold out my hand.“Frank Dirkwood.Good to make your acquaintance.”
“You too, Frank.”George gives me a hearty handshake.“This is my brother Hank.”
“Good to meet you, Hank.”
Hank returns my handshake as well.
“Take a load off,” George says.“We ordered coffees.”
A moment later, the coffees arrive.“Sir?Coffee?”our pretty server asks.
“Please.Black.”
She smiles.“Let me just grab the pot.”
She returns a minute later and pours me a cup.
“Are you gentlemen ready to order?”
I nod to George.
“I’ll have the great big American breakfast,” George says.
