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Show 50 actually took the silk handkerchief out of his breast pocket and mopped his sweaty brow with it, "I'd be tempted to leave town," said Jackson, "and skip out on this whole mess-if I could afford the gas." Back outside, beneath the sun, they stood at the Jaguar. "At least," said Jackson, "I presume she got the notice since it's not on her door." "Presumably," said Fogarty. "What's this truck?" said Jackson, staring at the battered vehicle in front of his own. "I don't know," said Fogarty. "I've never seen it before." "What a piece of shit. It makes the whole neighborhood look bad. No wonder I can't keep anything rented around here." "Something should happen soon," said Fogarty, without the slightest idea of what it might be, "Well, keep on it," said Jackson, climbing back into the car. "Keep an eye out. Watch for funny stuff. And give me a call. You know I'm desperate." "I know you're desperate," said Fogarty. Jackson backed up. Fogarty retreated to the middle of the street, forgetting to limp. Jackson pulled around the truck. "I wonder if I've even got enough gas to get home," he said through the window as he rolled it the rest of the way up. "You've got plenty of gas," said Fogarty, but Jackson couldn't hear him, was already halfway down the street. |
