Page 88 of Misadventures of a Biker

If he was too sick to respond, he was too sick to visit. The best thing for him was to allow him to get his rest. I hadn’t spent a night alone in months and wondered what I should do with my time.

I lifted the receiver of my desk phone and buzzed Kate’s office.

“Kate Winslow,” she said.

“This is Teddi, dork.”

“Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Want to go out after work?”

“I can’t. Forrest is in town.”

“Crap.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“What?”

“When they’re gone.”

“Yeah,” I said, releasing a sigh. “It sure does.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Devin

“Where the fuck you been?” Herb asked, nodding toward my backpack. “And where the fuck are you going?”

I’d hoped I could get out of the house before he got home from playing cards but didn’t have such luck. “It’s best you don’t know.”

“You’re living under my roof,” he snarled. “I have a right to know.”

“It’s best you don’t, old man. Believe me.”

He gestured toward the backpack. “What’s in the rucksack?”

“I’d rather not say.”

He gave me a cross look. “You back to your old bullshit?”

“I’ve got some business to take care of.”

“At nighttime? You’re back to busting skulls for that ragtag bunch of fuck nuggets in Miami, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, I’ve got some business to take care of. It’s best that you know nothing about it.”

“Since when do we keep secrets from each other?” he asked.

“Since telling you what I’m doing would make you aware of the commission of a crime.”

* * *

There were a dozen different ways to resolve the issue I was faced with. None of them were wrong. They were all potentially effective, but one stood out as having a far greater rate of success. As with most criminal operations, it had risks associated with it that the other options didn’t.

The risk wasn’t my concern. Success was.

Thirty minutes of surveillance informed me that he was home alone. My previous visit to the unattended home confirmed there was no alarm system, Nest doorbell, or security systems in place.