Fiction
If You See Something...by Matthew Mercier
Jimmy is convinced the flower shop across the street is a front.
“Watch,” he tells me. “They don’t sell no flowers. I sit here all day and.”
“All day?” I huff, stacking dishes in the rack. “See, bro? That’s a red flag right there.”
“Shut up and listen. I see people come in and out of there all day. In, out, in, out. No flowers. No bouquets. Nothing. Place don’t got no website and I never see delivery people. How they stay in business? I’m just saying. Crack. Meth. Horse. Something. Look, there’s the scout.”
He’s pointing out the window at his main suspect, a ghost of a goon who didn’t get the memo that mullets went out of style in ’89. The guy is dressed in his only outfit: an oversized, short-sleeve flannel, baggy jeans, and sneakers
