“You sure about that?” he said. “Exactly the same?”
I rolled the Bentley down the slight hill to Roscoe’s house. Parked on the road outside her place. She wasn’t home. The Chevrolet wasn’t there. The big chrome clock on the Bentley’s dash showed ten of six. Ten minutes to wait. I got out of the front seat and got into the back. Stretched out on the big old car’s leather bench.
The doctor started shuffling some notes on his desk, but his telephone rang. He answered it and then held it out to Finlay.
“Get out of here, man,” screamed the Red Boys over the sirens. “This is ours. We did this. Understand? Red Boys did this. We’ll take the fall, man.”
The kids ran off to play somewhere and Charlie ushered us in through the front door. I didn’t really want to drink any iced tea, but I did want to stick around in case Hubble got back. I wanted to catch him on my own for five minutes. I wanted to ask him some pretty urgent questions before Finlay started in with the Miranda warnings.
She sighed a ragged sigh. Pushed off the wall and stepped over. Tried a brave smile. The crisis was gone. She was up and running.