Page 119 of Dirty

“How promptly?”

“I’ve only got a few hours.”

He looked at Downes. “Call Hec, will you?”

Downes pulled out his phone, stood, and pressed his fingers to the screen. As he walked away, I looked at Mr. Bale.

“If we can get this done, it’d be a dream come true for me. I’ve been saving for ten years or more, and then I came into some money. I’ve got a deal on a house that needs a lot of work, but it’d be worth twice what I’m paying when I’m done.”

“Mr. Downey?” Downes said from behind me.

I turned around. “Yes?”

He cupped his hand over the phone. “Mr. Hec Astur on the phone for you. He’d like your routing and account numbers.”

I looked at Mr. Bale. “Don’t we need to…I’ll have to get you the cash, and then…”

“We’ll resolve that issue later. Take care of Mr. Astur’s needs. He’s old and cranky.”

With my heart racing, I took the phone from Downes’ hand. “Adam Downey,” I said.

“Hec Astur,” he said. “If you can provide me the pertinent information, I’ll see to it you’re paid promptly for the work you’ve performed. If you’d like to bring an invoice by the office later, it’ll keep the IRS off both our respective asses. Let’s see, the transfer amount for the work is…$1,550,000. Is that correct?”

“Uhhm. Yes, Sir.”

“Do you have the banking information for your institution?”

I shoved my shaking hand into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. After retrieving a check from my wallet, I read him the information.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Downey. You’ll have your money in an hour. Glad we could be of assistance.”

The phone went dead.

I handed it to Downes and collapsed into my seat.

“What else can I do for you today, Mr.Downey?” Mr. Bale asked.

“Slow down the clock?” I laughed. “I need to get two places in a matter of hours, and riding that bike is killing my foot. I hit it on my steps again.”

He looked at Downes. “Fire up the B7, Downes. Would you? And take Mr. Downey wherever he’d like to go.”

He extended his hand. “I’d love to spend the afternoon, talking, Mr. Downey, but I have a friend who’s racing against the clock on a home purchase.”

I shook his hand.

As we walked to the garage, I wondered what could make a man so considerate. I decided as Downes was flying up the 5 at 140 miles per hour that Mr. Ward’s generosity must have changed him.

It was an easy conclusion to come to.

Because I knew his generosity changed me.

FORTY-TWO

Lex

It was hard for me to believe it had been three months since I started working at Mr. West’s restaurant, but it had been. The time had flown by. Sandy and I sat at the Crab Shack drinking our afternoon beer and solving the world’s problems one disaster at a time.

“It sucks he dicked you over,” I said.