Ready. Set. Psycho.

Chapter Twelve: Solomon

           

Solomon watched Reginald leave and finished his beer, taking the USB key and walking out without paying. Sean threw a beernut at him as he slipped out the door and yelled something incomprehensible but very likely foul.

The conversation with Reginald and the friendly violence from Sean reminded him of the first time he had been to The Dog and Duck. He had been sitting at the bar eating nuts and drinking beer. He was staring at the television watching highlights from the Knicks game that night. When he finished his beer, he waved a finger at Sean, who poured another and brought it to him. "Good game tonight," Sean said.

"Great game. Keeps playoffs hope alive," Solomon said.

"All hope's false hope with the Knicks," Sean replied.

"You can't say that," Solomon said. His phone rang.

"Why not?" Sean asked.

Solomon took out the phone and looked at it. "Because you're from fucking Boston, you asshole." He answered the phone.

"Still true," Sean said, walking down the empty bar and continuing to clean.

"Roud," Solomon said.

"Let's play a game," a voice said.

"Fuck you," Solomon said, hanging up. He ate a handful of nuts as his phone rang again. He hung up on the caller, mouthing "creep" under his breath. He took a sip of beer, and his phone buzzed. He swiped the screen and saw that it was a text. He opened it, and there was an image of Juanita in a room with plastic sheeting covering the walls. She was panicked. The text said, Let's talk.

His phone rang again. Solomon threw a twenty onto the bar and answered his phone, rushing out the door. "Don't forget your change, you cheap bastard," Sean called after him.

"That was very rude, Detective Roud. Forgive the pun," Psycho said.

"Had I known it was you..." Solomon responded.

"You would have left the bar, like you did. And you would have gone to your car, where you're going. And you would have gotten in, which you will. And you would have driven to the station and found Kevin or some other kid to help you find me."

"Not you," Solomon said.

"Keeping your eye on the prize?" Psycho said. "I like it. Helps the game. Open to playing?"

"I am playing," Solomon said. "I haven't stopped playing. I've been looking for her. But you know that."

"I know a lot."

Solomon sat in his car. "Don't start the engine," Psycho said. Solomon froze, his hands on the keys in the ignition. "And don't leave your seat." Solomon shifted uneasily. "And don't shift too much weight."

"You have my attention," Solomon said.

"Good," Psycho said. "I just want to talk about buying you off."

"I'm not for sale."

"Everyone has a price."

"There isn't enough money in the world..."

"Oh, I know. I know, Sol. You have plenty of money."

"No, I don't."

"Your father's money."

"No. I don't have any of that."

"Don't lie to me," Psycho said, agitated. "You can lie to them, and you can lie to everyone else about it, but don't lie to me."