CHAPTER 25
Monte Cristo woke up to a blaze of text messages and voicemails. His phone vibrated, buzzed, and fell off his nightstand.
He groaned. He had just fallen asleep after being up for twenty-six hours. It was impossible to get a good night’s rest when you were the boss.
He reached for the phone without opening his eyes, and knocked over several beer bottles that broke against the hardwood floor. He snatched the phone and squinted at the screen.
A voicemail from Artemus. He played it.
“Hey, uh, Monte, we might have a little problem . . . I lost the pipshakes. Can’t find ‘em anywhere. Been searchin’ all over the place. Would ya mind helpin’ a cheeseburger out, old pal? Call me when you get this.”
Monte Cristo threw himself backward and crashed into his pillow. “They’re kid shakes
