Page 56 of A Little Naughty

Now I’m using her for a cover story. She texted me this morning, lavender or green for Nikki, and brown or black for the boys. I’d run this errand for her regardless of my need to case the location, but an uncomfortable knot lodges at the base of my throat. It’s a pill that won’t go all the way down.

Pulling up to the entrance, a guy I recognize is standing in the guard shack when I slow to a stop and raise the visor on my helmet. He’s dressed in black pants and a white, uniform shirt with a walkie-talkie clipped to the front.

“Hiya, Raif.” He steps out of the small booth, smiling under his heavy mustache. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Hey, Chip.” I nod, thinking about my cover story. “What’s it been, a year?”

“Something like that.” He lights up a cigarette and takes a long pull. “You coming back to work?”

“Nah, I got something going in Eureka. Just checking on things.”

“Anything in particular?”

Blue smoke circles around his head as he speaks. Looking around, I make quick mental notes of all the access points to this area. This is the dock, and this is the only way in.

“I’ve got a friend with a couple of kids.”

“Don’t tell me…” He starts to laugh then breaks into a wheezing cough.

It takes him a minute to catch his breath, and I nod at the smoldering cigarette in his hand. “I’ve heard those things will kill you.”

He shakes his head, waving me away. “Yeah, yeah. So as I was saying, you’re looking for one of them Koala Kups?”

“You got me.” I hold up my hands. “Make me a hero, Chip.”

“Do you have any idea how many people come out here asking about those things? Really nice people, too, in Range Rovers and whatnot.”

“It’s crazy.” I shake my head, looking at the front of my bike. “What’s the word?”

“Well, it just so happens, I might have something for you.” He waves me over to the side. “Totally hush-hush, of course.”

“Of course.” I walk the bike through the gate, guiding it around behind the guard shack.

When I worked here, I wasn’t thinking like a lookout. I was thinking like someone who didn’t like my job and really wanted to get the fuck out of here.

Now I’m thinking like a criminal, and it makes me feel like the person everyone suspects me of being. My eyes trace every inch of the place, noting all the spots a person could hide.

Putting the kickstand down, I kill the engine and follow him down the line of cars to a silver Dodge hatchback. We’re standing close, and he looks over his shoulders.

“See what you think about these.” He lifts the back, and two cardboard boxes sit open on the bed.

Inside are plastic-wrapped cups in assorted colors.

“Got one in lavender or green, two in brown or black?”

He digs around, taking out what I need and slipping them to me in a black plastic bag. “Make that an even sixty.”

I dig a fifty and a twenty out of my wallet and pass it over. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” He quickly pockets the money, and I put the bag inside my denim jacket.

“Hey, thanks. I knew you were the man.” We walk slowly towards the guard shack again, and he stops, crossing his arms and studying me as I move the bag to the side compartment of my bike.

“Your brother’s still coming around.” My chest tightens, and I’m not sure where he’s going with this.

While I’ve never done anything to get arrested, Bull’s been in jail a few times. It’s where my “guilt by association” comes into play.

“I heard he’s doing repairs on one of the barges.” I try to play it off like I’m not still living with him.

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