Key West Normal (Key West Capers Book 16) by Laurence Shames

Author:Laurence Shames [Shames, Laurence]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2021-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

11

B ert had put the car away, and now he, Sonny, and the dog were sitting on the seawall. They told themselves they were watching out for suspicious activity in the vicinity of the food trucks, but mainly they were just looking at the beach and eating Sno-Cones. Bert was having lemon, which came close to the flavor but not the texture of the Italian ices he’d loved at Coney Island in his youth. Sonny had the one whose flavor couldn’t be matched up with any fruit on earth, so they just called it blue.

It was late afternoon and the beach crowd was thinning out. Young guys crumpled one last beer can then wobbled off with their empty coolers. Women in bikinis folded up their towels and stepped into their flip-flops, their pedicures ruined by coarse sand, their skin etched with intersecting tan lines according to which bathing suit they’d worn the day before. Bert tilted his paper cup so Nacho could lap up the cold sweet syrup at the bottom; the dog came away with bright yellow droplets at the end of its muzzle. Then the old man said, “Ya know what I think our next move oughta be? I think we oughta call Citarella back.”

“I thought ya said I shouldn’t talk to him,” Sonny pointed out. “Ya said I wasn’t ready.”

“Well, we know a little more now. Like where he is. Like what kinda mood he’s in, namely lousy. I think it’s time to feel ‘im out. Maybe I can sorta help a little, do a little coachin’ onna sidelines. Put ‘im on speaker. Trick is, make sure ya learn more than ya teach.”

Sonny looked dubious, but he threw away his Sno-Cone cup, sat down on the wall again, cleared his throat, and made the call.

Citarella picked up on the second ring. He didn’t say hello. He said, “Sonny, where the fuck you been?”

“Around,” the big man said. “Here and there.”

Bert nodded approvingly at the laconic reply.

“And where’s the fuckin’ hot dog?”

“Ya know, I was just gonna ask you that.”

“You telling me you don’t where it is?” said Citarella, shouting over television noise on his end of the line. Then he said, “Hang on a minute.” Then he yelled out, “Will you turn that fucking TV down? I’m on an important call.”

A woman’s voice, muffled by distance but not soft, said “Bigshot. It’s so important, go talk onna balcony.”

Sonny covered his phone with his hand. To Bert, he said, “Ah, that Cecile. She don’t let no one push her around.”

Citarella got back to business. “So lemme get this straight. You’re tellin’ me you don’t know where the hot dog is?”

Sonny said, “Well, I kinda been out lookin’ for it.”

“But you don’t where it is?”

“Frankie, if I knew where it was, why would I be lookin’?”

Bert offered a thumbs-up for this bit of repartee.

Citarella sounded less impressed. “Don’t get cute with me, Sonny. It doesn’t suit you.” Then he shouted out, “I said turn the fucking television down.”

“Screw you,” said Cecile.

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