Page 105 of Hard to Kill

“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.

EIGHTY-THREE

JIMMY SAYS HE’LL CALL only if he finds out anything interesting at McKenzie’s house. Nothing unusual about Jimmy Cunniff refusing to treat a cell phone like a pacifier.

After a couple of hours of radio silence, I check his location on my phone, since he’s reluctantly given me permission to track him when necessary.

But he’s obviously disabled that setting.

I try to get some work in before dinner, knowing he’ll call when he does know something, if he does. I spend some time on a Zoom with the two law school students, both women—Estie and Zoe—whom I’ve hired for research and trial prep.

I continue to hydrate, like a good girl.

Around six I grab my phone and Rip and take a long walk on the beach.

No calls from Jimmy.

No texts.