Reviewing his notes on the new client he’d met today, Gaspard sat in his car, listening to the radio. He was parked at the end of the street, and once in a while, he anxiously glanced up at the YBR’s doors. He could see the building from here, but his car was far enough down the street to remain inconspicuous.
Gaspard checked the time again. It was coming on seven P.M. Wolfe would be out any minute now. On the passenger seat, his phone vibrated, and he looked over at it, seeing Curtis’s number flashing. What did he want now? “Hello,” Gaspard answered, turning down the radio.
“Hey, Dad, listen, I’m out the door right now, but I was wondering if I could take the hundred-dollar bill in the pot and―”
“That’s for the cleaning service tomorrow.”
“No, I know, but I’m not getting paid until Th
