Page 82
Story: Hard to Kill (Jane Smith #2)
EIGHTY-TWO
Jimmy
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, JIMMY and Jane are drinking iced tea on her back patio. If she’s run-down enough to fall down, Jimmy tells her, she needs to wake the hell up.
“I’d like you to please cut the shit,” Jimmy says.
“Yes, doctor. I slept until nearly noon today.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
While Ben was driving Jane home from the hospital, Jimmy made the short drive to the Bell & Anchor, taking a shot that McKenzie and Jacobson were still at the restaurant after watching Jane take a header. They weren’t.
But the guy at the host stand was a local who as a college student had bartended for Jimmy. He was an up-and-comer now, the kind restaurants in the Hamptons relied upon to know who wanted to be seen and who didn’t.
“According to my guy Jake, McKenzie and Eric Jacobson started showing up together about six months ago. McKenzie shot my guy some money at the time. Rent money, enough to guarantee a table no matter how crowded the place was.”
“Makes you proud to be an American.”
“They’re not at the Bell every week,” Jimmy continues. “But Jake says they are there fairly regularly.”
“So maybe our friend Eric wasn’t riding the wild surf nearly as much as we and his parents thought he was.”
“So what we’ve got here is a guy who hates the father, hanging out with the son,” Jimmy says.
“Who hates the father even more.”
Jimmy grins at her. “Maybe daddy issues brought them together, like it was destiny.”
Jane has finished her iced tea and is now working on the bottle of water next to her cup.
“We’re talking here about two guys who basically grew up being called losers by our client,” she says.
“Maybe they’ve got decoder rings for their special losers’ club.”
Jane picks up a tennis ball and throws it into the yard for Rip.
When he comes back, he drops the ball at Jimmy’s feet. Jimmy grins. “Come on, that’s funny shit right there.”
“Maybe to you.”
Jimmy picks up the ball now. Groans as he brings his arm forward, manages to throw the ball about twenty yards.
“I think you might have come off the Injured List too soon,” Jane says.
He ignores her.
“I’m thinking that if McKenzie was in town last night, maybe that means he’s back living at his Southampton house,” he says.
“Maybe they had a sleepover.”
“Wouldn’t that be a joy?”
He finishes his iced tea, stands, hands the ball to Jane when Rip brings it back this time.
“You going to head over there?” she asks.
“I am,” he says. “It would practically be a sin not to, since talking to losers has always been one of my specialties.”
“Maybe we’re the ones who should have decoder rings,” Jane says.
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