Look at the guy two weeks back, Evan. Suit fit him like he was sewn into it. Shoes so shiny and fresh, they hadn't seen pavement before yesterday at the earliest. Fine shave, not a trace of stubble. He got it probably a couple of hours ago, cause of how hairy he was. Backs of his hands were like fur mittens.
He looked the part just fine, but then he had to open his mouth. It was like watching someone read off cue cards. His voice shook when he said “Mr.” and “Ms.”, He forgot his lines and said “dem f------ apes,” “shot the s--- outta Jess,” and “fish food in the ocean.” Real raspy voice, couple packs a day for maybe a decade. He wanted us to find the guy that killed his wife.
When he handed Dara the wad of cash as a retainer, two things went wrong. Nobody ever pays me a thick stack that isn't $1 bills up front, and he couldn't even bring himself to let it go. She had to pry it from him. He kept leaning in, ready for action, not talk. When he turned to leave, I could feel his steps in the floor. Real flat-footed, he never had to learn how to step light.
Soon as he left, Dara and me looked at each other, then at the five g's. Felt crisp, new, clean as sunshine. He probably borrowed it from the mob at a hundred percent. Ain't no one know about the state's you sure he [Trace means usury. -Dara] laws. Gotta figure that he was some slob worked in construction, maybe a teamster, but didn't want to go through the union. Love makes people do stupid things, like ridiculous loans so they can get revenge.
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