Page 115 of Not the Plan

“That’swhat happened? Have you told Isa?”

“Not yet,” Karim said. “Thought it was too big to just drop on her. I have to run by IT, then I’m on my way to see if there’s more info at Ike’s. I thought I’d take it to her tonight.”

“Okay. Good. What can I do?” RJ asked.

Karim’s breath caught. He hadn’t thought he’d have help.

“If I go by her house, you think she’ll slam the door in my face?” he asked.

“She might. Let me work on that.”

Karim sighed. “Thank you, RJ.”

“Forget about it. You’re good for her. She’s just a little freaked out right now, but I don’t think it’s a lost cause.” RJ shrugged.

“It isn’t?” The question grated itself out over broken vocal cords.

“When I talk to her or see her, it’s like she’s grieving inside. You don’t grieve like that unless you’ve lost something big,” RJ said.

Could I still be something big for her?

“She hasn’t lost anything, RJ. And she’s not going to. Tell her what Julian’s plan is, please? And can you call or text me if the insurance bill comes up for a vote? They’re going to try to pass it this afternoon.”

“Got it.” They exchanged personal numbers and RJ unlocked the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get that door open tonight.”

He squeezed RJ’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Then he opened the door and headed downstairs.

—

“Bullshit,” Karim said as he towered over the owner of Ike’s, arms folded. Karim understood how he and Julian had been able to work together; they were cut from the same cloth. Both sneaky, plotting little toads.

“You expect me to believe you cut this sort of deal with Julian without setting up an insurance policy for yourself?” Karim asked.

“I don’t care what you believe,” the little man said. “I’m telling you, there are no videos of either Julian or Peter. That was the agreement. They only spent time in the rooms with no cameras.”

Karim nodded, scanning the dingy office. There were two flat-screen TVs in one corner, each with four images from security cameras within the establishment. The man’s gaze darted over his shoulder to the flat screens. His eyebrows shifted up for a second. Then he licked his lips and peeked back at Karim.

“You’re telling me there are ten rooms here?” Karim asked.

“Uh…those other two are on the pool area and the parking lot.” The man’s forehead started to glisten. Karim went over his mental images of the place. It wasn’t that big. He leaned farther over the desk.

“There are no more than six ‘special’ rooms here. Structurally, you just don’t have the space.” The little man began to shake. “If memory serves, it’s closer to four,” Karim said. He pulled the blue USB key from his pocket. “Did Julian tell you about that statute you reference on the new signs? The ones saying that the premises are being recorded?”

The toad gulped. “Yes, why?”

“That’s too bad,” Karim said. “ ’Cause it’s a bogus statute. It doesn’t exist. You have no legal standing to film all the things you do. Now, I could mention that to one of my colleagues. Perhaps one of the stars of your jerk-fests. Or…” He tossed the blue USB key to the toad, who sighed and made copies of the files of Julian and Peter.

“Thank you,” Karim said, returning the key to his pocket. Then he pulled out a black one. The one he’d picked up from one of the guys in IT who had auniquehabit of collecting viruses. “Now this one,” he said. “I need two copies.”

The toad groaned a complaint but obliged, unknowingly infecting his system with a virus that corrupted video files.

“Tell me something,” Karim began. “Did I come by today?”

The toad raised an eyebrow. “No. We’ve never seen each other before.”

“Thanks again. It might not be a bad idea for you to get a lawyer. Gonna need to cover your ass about your surveillance.”

—

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