Page 12 of Givin' Me Fitz!
“For our kindness, David’s going to give me eleven hundred bucks—a thousand for his bond and a hundred for our fee, and we’ll say goodbye here on the parking lot. I’ll drop you off at the office and head out for the evening. Digs and Keats are on call tonight if we get anything. Sparky and Monty are taking the weekend calls.”
David fished the stack of bills from his pocket, counted out twelve hundreds and winked at Greeley. “I’ll pay the folks at Caesars enough that they’ll lift the ban. I appreciate you coming to bail me out, so have a drink on me with the extra hundred. I don’t get why they just didn’t let me get my cash and hand it to them, but whatever. Thanks, man.”
The kid shook both of our hands and walked toward the street, hailing the first cab to drive by. We both got into Greeley’s Mustang and he took the highway toward South Rainbow.
“You got weekend plans?” Greeley merged onto the highway and hit the gas to get in the left lane.
“Looking at apartments and trucks. I sold my old SUV before I moved out here, so I’m driving a rental and living in a residence hotel for the last two weeks, which is damn expensive. Hopefully, I’ll find somewhere else to move.”
I’d lined up three apartments to tour, all of which were close to the office. I could live anywhere for a year, so I figured I’d go for convenience first.
Greeley offered an opinion. “I’ll give you a tip about the truck. Get a used one. People drive for shit around here, and some don’t bother with insurance. I usually don’t drive this car when I’m working. I ride my bike to the office and use Sparky’s trap truck if we go out. Monty’s good about letting us use his old truck if someone’s already got Sparky’s. I only drove this baby today because I’ve got a birthday party in Henderson. Besides, we weren’t picking the kid up, just helping him out of a bind.”
“Why wouldn’t they let him bail himself out?” It made no sense to me.
“They should have. The kid had the cash, so they were just being assholes to him by telling him he had to have a bondsman. He didn’t need us, but we got the call. We gotta make money somehow.”
I shrugged. It made sense, though it seemed a little shitty not to tell the kid he could have bailed himself out.
“What was the deal with the deputy? Is he always such an asshole?” It was good to know if I should avoid the guy in the future.
Greeley chuckled. “I’m a one-hit wonder, and clearly, Deputy Marin wasn’t happy about it.”
I laughed. “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy who probably fits that bill.”
“Oh yeah? Anybody I might know?” Greeley took the exit for South Rainbow and sat at the stop light.
Should I say who it is? Is there a rule I don’t know about that I can’t date a client? Maybe it’s better not to tell him?
“Just a guy I met online.” Not completely a lie, but not the whole truth. Greeley probably wouldn’t give a damn anyway.
“Well, be careful. And make sure you bring protection. I had some asshole tell me that I was a pussy for demanding we use condoms. I zipped up and got the fuck out of his hotel room. Last fucking thing I need is an STI that can’t be treated.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Greeley pulled into the strip mall and parked behind Sparks Bail Bonds. We both got out of his car and went to the back door. Greeley rang the bell before punching a code into the lock, just as Monty had done.
“You got your code yet?” He opened the door for me to go inside first. I guess in case anyone was going to shoot at us, I’d be the canary in the coal mine.
“Not yet. I guess Sparky’s waiting for my license to come in. I listed the office as my mailing address because of the temporary housing situation. Is there someone I should speak with to check if any mail has come for me?”
Greeley walked up front and pulled the money out of the folder he’d carried from the car. “Here’s the eleven for David Frisk’s bond and a tip for the office party fund. Can you leave the receipt on my desk?”
Denise smiled. “Sure Brian. Have a great weekend.”
He returned the sentiment and stopped beside the desk I was using. “Let’s talk to Hardy. We’ll see if he can give you a code so you’re not stuck out in the heat if you get in earlier than Denise.”
I followed Greeley to Hardy’s tech cave. The young man had taped black paper over the windows and used lamps instead of the shitty fluorescent lights to work by. Smart kid.
“Hey, Hardy. Can you give—”
“Oh, hey, guys. Fitz, I was looking for you earlier. You’ve got mail.” The young man, who happened to be Sparky’s son, giggled. He was attending UNLV so he wasn’t in the office all the time. He seemed like a nice kid.
Hardy opened the door to a large cabinet and pulled out a metal bin. “Here you go. Denise didn’t want to just leave it on your desk, so I said I’d give it to you when you came in. I’m here working on a project for school, so I’ll probably be here late for that—like I am most other nights. Just me and Dixie.” He didn’t look directly at me as he slid a paper over something on his desk. As I’d learned over time, Hardy showed signs of feeling guilty about something, but it wasn’t my business.
I took the envelopes out of the basket and shuffled through them, finding one from the Nevada Division of Insurance, the licensing agency for bail recovery agents. I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the paperwork, finding a shiny silver star with three titles pressed into the metal.
Bounty Hunter. Fugitive Recovery. Bail Enforcement Agent. It was imbedded in a leather case that attached to a chain to be worn around my neck or it could be clipped to my belt. It seemed I’d carried a badge of some kind for most of my life. Now I was back in the saddle again.
