Page 27 of Going Rogue


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The big guy yanked the dart out of his leg and threw it at the dartboard, scoring a bullseye. “Cripes, Benji,” the big guy said, “that’s the second time tonight you stuck a dart in me. It’s getting old.”

“It was an accident,” Benji said. “I was looking for the beer.”

“We drank the beer,” the big guy said.

I laid the six coins out on a nearby high-top table. “We need you to identify the coin,” I said to Benji.

“These are all the same,” he said. “They’re all from the game.”

“Yes,” I said, “but you only sold one of them. Which one did you sell?”

He took a closer look. “I don’t know. They all look alike. Even if I was sober, I couldn’t tell you which one I sold.”

“How do we get in touch with the kidnapper?” Ranger asked when we were back in the Porsche.

“I’m supposed to hang a sign in the office window.”

“Babe, that’s borderline pathetic.”

“Yeah,” I said. “He might not be a professional kidnapper. Are we going to give him all seven coins?”

Ranger pulled away from the curb. “Yes.” He drove to the end of the block and turned at the cross street.

“Do you think we’ll get Connie back?” I asked him.

“It’s possible.”

“But not guaranteed.”

“Not guaranteed,” Ranger said.

Ranger stopped for a light and looked over at me. I knew the look. If it was any hotter it would have set my panties on fire.

“Where do we stand?” he asked.

“I’m in a relationship.”

“And?”

“That’s it,” I said.

“You’ll let me know when it’s ended?”

“You’ll be the first person I tell.”

Ranger almost smiled. I amuse him.

The light turned green, and Ranger headed toward downtown. His apartment was in town. Beyond town on the other side of the railway tracks were Hamilton Avenue and the bail bonds office.

“Your call,” Ranger said. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to the office to hang a sign.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m going to wait for a phone call.”

He glanced over at me. “It’s only a matter of time, babe.”

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