NineChicago › Tuesday, December 2, 2008 › 18h50
Jayson stood staring at the glossy business card stuck to his old fridge like an overdue bill. Ricki shrugged. She slid the card out from under a promotional fridge magnet shaped like a pizza. She held it up. “TIME Shipbuilding and Engineering, Santiago de Cuba.”
Jayson’s skin crawled. He twisted the cap off a cold beer and swapped the bottle for the card in Ricki’s hand. He scratched his head. “I know this company,” he said, trying to put a face to the owner. He rolled the card over between his fingers, like rolling poker chips during a high-stakes game, trying to remain calm, which didn’t last. A handwritten message on the back of the card, in red ink, made him flinch.
He read it twice, then handed the card back to Ricki and opened himse
