Page 89 of Always Salty

He was right.

“Fuck,” I sighed. “I’ll get her one ASAP. She’s gonna fuckin’ love that.”

“See if one of the Truth Tellers wants to do it. She’s friends with them…” I missed what else he was saying because there were multiple cars rolling up the road. “Fuck.”

“What?” Shasha asked.

“I’m gonna need you to put a Truth Teller on Keely. And keep an eye on her,” I said. “She’s at the office today with Copper, so you can probably just give him a call.”

“What are you saying?” Shasha asked. “Are there cops there?”

“Yep,” I confirmed.

“I’ll pull your location and get you a lawyer out there in a bit. Don’t say anything,” Shasha ordered.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not stupid, Shasha.”

“No, you’re not. But you also get a little defensive when your girl is brought into the mix,” he explained.

He did have a point.

“Well,” I sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

I walked back over to Jim after I hung up and said, “Hey, Jim.”

Jim looked up.

“Could you possibly hold my phone and keys for a bit? Until I can come pick them up a little later?” I asked, getting the feeling that I could trust this man with just about anything.

Especially if he didn’t like ol’ Jack/not Jack.

“Sure,” he frowned, then saw all the cars barreling down the street. “I’ll put your bike in the garage.”

“Thanks, Jim,” I said as I handed him my phone and keys. “If my girl calls, tell her that she needs to call Shasha.”

“What’s your girl’s name?” he asked.

“Keely,” I answered.

“Okay.” He took the phone and the keys and put them into his pocket.

No questions.

Yeah, I needed to tell Shasha about this old man.

Maybe he could be useful.

With my pockets a lot lighter, I went back to my lean against the bike, knowing what was about to come.

It didn’t take long.

As soon as his backup had arrived, Cheesy Chester came back out of his place, clothed in his ridiculously oversized getup, and watched the show.

“Dima Semyonov?” the first man to reach me asked.

He was clothed in a FBI windbreaker, and looked like the quintessential FBI guy off of every movie ever.

“Are you Dima Semyonov?” he asked again, clearly impatient with me.

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