Page 58 of Mr. Perfect

Spencer’s phone rang again, and he sighed. “I’m sorry to cut this meeting short, but I must take this call. We can continue another day if you need additional information. Veronica could also help you since she assists my wife with her board director duties.”

The same woman who went toe-to-toe with Skeet and Jack Mercy’s muscle. “Good to know. Thank you for your time,” Felix said.

He gave Veronica a friendly finger wave as he exited the corporate offices.

Felix dialed Rocky’s cell number. “Do you know any parole officers?” he asked when his friend answered.

“Several,” Rocky replied.

“How about ones you’re certain aren’t tied to Jack Mercy?” Felix probed.

“I know a gal. Are you finished with the interview already?”

“Yeah,” Felix replied before repeating his conversation with Spencer. “You think your gal could discreetly get her hands on the names of the parolees who came through or are currently in the Second Chance Program? I think it’s important.”

“I’ll find out,” Rocky said.

“If we get the list, Marla the Magnificent can work her magic and crosscheck to see if any are known Mercy associates.”

“It would be an excellent breeding ground to choose muscle from,” Rocky said.

“Or a way to reward the ones who’d kept their mouths shut when they were busted.”

“You’re fucking good at this, Felix.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Oh, so you did go to Jude’s house on Tuesday night.”

Fuck. Felix stepped right into that one. “Wrong.” Jude had come to his house, so it wasn’t a lie.

“Uh-huh,” Rocky said. “The Straight Shooter was sporting a hickey on his neck during his broadcasts on Tuesday night. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

Felix neither confirmed nor denied. He said, “Talk to you later, Major.”

“Later, Fee.”

Felix disconnected and drove out to Jonah’s neighborhood. Neither he nor Avery would be home from work yet, but he wasn’t going there to see them. Watching the video about the Tupperware container the other night reminded him of a beautiful lady waiting for him to return her cobbler dish. At least he was smart enough to wash it first.

Felix had called Marla at lunchtime to make sure she was feeling up to having company.

“Company?” she’d asked. “Baby, you’re family.”

Amos’s old Cadillac convertible wasn’t in the driveway when he arrived, but Marla was sitting on the porch with Betty, her precious French bulldog, on her lap. She held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and leaned forward to get a better look at him. He’d gotten so used to driving the big SUV that he forgot he’d only had it for a week.

“How are my prettiest girls?” Felix asked when he stepped out of the Lincoln.

“Felix? What are you doing driving a car that costs more than my house?” Marla teased.

“It’s a loaner while the dealership replaces my transmission. Rocky is in love with it, and I have to admit I’ve become a little spoiled too.”

“Let me check it out,” Marla said, rising slowly from her rocker. She wore a lavender summer dress, a straw hat in the same hue, and sandals. Her makeup was impeccably applied, and not a hair from her shoulder-length wig was out of place.

Felix hated seeing the toll liver cancer was taking on her, but he admired her fighting spirit. Marla was his kind of people.

“Want me to take you for a ride?” Felix asked.

“If you think this beast can stop at the ice cream parlor. I’m in the mood for a mint chocolate chip cone.”