Up in Honey's Room
Up in Honey's Room
“Now he was approaching the FBI surveillance car, having a look at it through the line of trees in the median. It was Vera’s idea: go left and they would have to turn around in the street to come after him. “If anyone is in it,” Vera said. “I see it as a decoy. Sometime after breakfast an agent is dropped off to sit in the car and pick his teeth.”
Joe Aubrey was a mess, but not a problem in his rumpled suit, his shirttail hanging out. Bo had said, “I’m not sticking his shirt down in his pants.” Vera didn’t care. Joe was groggy from the goofball, still drunk but miserable, what was left of him once Vera was through. He opened his eyes to streetlights and neon signs.
“Where we goin’?”
“To Walter’s.”
“He’s way out’n the country.”
“Yes, he is,” Bo said. “Go seepy-by and let me drive.”
Aubrey reached over to lay his hand on Bo’s thigh. “You still wearin’ your skirt? I’m gonna stick my hand under it, see what you got.”
Bo said, “Mr. Aubrey, please,”
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