“If someone’s following me, I’ll see them.”
“But is it us, or is it one of Wu-Tin’s thugs?”
“Maybe it’s both.”
“You have someone on the inside?”
“Just go get lunch, Jim.” Apparently, Jimmy wasn’t supposed to know everything.
“Hopefully it’s not my last meal. I’d prefer wings and a beer.”
A halting laugh. “Still Jimmy McSwain.”
“People don’t change,” he said.
“We’ll talk later.” A safe response. Meaning a non-response.
Jimmy put the phone away and got up off the bench. The kids continued to play, on swings and slides and seesaws. Jimmy felt he’d ridden them all just now, unsettling his stomach. But he realized he hadn’t eaten and it was time. For food, and for furthering this case. On the sidewalk, he saw a young woman with a cane, a dog on a leash guiding her. His mind flashed to
