Tubbs dipped his prawn into the watery dressing and savored the taste. He had eaten well at dinner, but cocktails went down best with good company and good snacks
"You want me to send that back?" asked the bar-keep. He raised his eyebrows to show his reluctance. "You never know. I might catch the cook on a good day. He might only kill one of us."
It was a bit of a depressing time, but not unusual. In between cases there was a lot of down time. He and Crockett spent so much time building the background on their fake characters. After the busts had gone down and the dust had cleared they had to lie low.
"Sorry, Toni. These are great as always. Just bring my usual drink. I'm making a quick call. Be back in a few minutes."
When Tubbs was winding down from a long undercover assignment, he liked to lie low in the Gables. The pace there was a little less hectic than downtown. He was also less likely to meet anyone he was no longer friends with. He also liked to leave his 'cellular' phone back at the station. It was a status symbol in the marina. Here it made him look self-important.
The quarters dropped into the payphone slot. "Hey Dad," he began.
"Ricardo? Good to hear from you. I guess you thought about that idea of mine? How about it?"
"You know, Dad. I haven't really given it much thought. I've been busy with an assignment for a couple of weeks. Why don't you come down to Miami? We could talk about whatever you want."
His father laughed. "Hey. You know me Ricardo. I never go south of Jersey. But what could you say on the beach there that you couldn't say over the telephone now? If you don't like my idea, I say 'okay'. Some of your buddies from the P.D. are retiring. They would be good at security. Very good. I just wanted to keep the business in the family."
Tubbs sighed. "Family? You make it sound like an offer I can't refuse," he said with his best Brando voice. "it's the idea of retiring that I don't like. Retiring is about knowing when to quit. You've got to know when it's time to give up."
His father's voice sounded riled. "I'm not talking about giving up. A few municipal contracts. Hard work for good money. You could run the people side for me. You're good at that sort of thing. Leave the politics and the money to me. That's what I do."
Tubbs laughed quietly. "Yes. That's what you do. Listen. I'm not saying 'no'. I'm just saying I haven't thought about it yet. I could work for you, of course I could, but I have to think about the life I have here."
"That's the word Ricardo. Make sure you've got a life to live. You never know when what you do might turn on you." His father only guessed at what he did and never referred to it directly.
"We'll talk, Dad. That's my change running down. I'll see you soon." The receiver went quiet and the disconnect tone purred gently in his ear. There were more quarters on the top of the cabinet, but he had let the call end amicably.
As Tubbs sat back in the booth, other customers came and went. It was a quiet afternoon. He sat over a couple of drinks and even let himself think.
"Louis?" He was shaken from his thoughts. A short man was approaching from the back of the bar. Tubbs had no idea who he was.
"What did he say?" Tubbs quickly went thru the rolodex in his head. "Am I Luis from P.R? Did he mean Lewis from Boston? Was I ever a Louis?" He had so many identities.
"I thought you were working down South," he asked with false friendliness. His stupid emphasis on 'down South' would have alerted even a child to his implication.
Tubbs flashed his tolerant smile. He needed to show he was cool, but he did not want any idle conversation. "They seek me here. They seek me there. I'm on a rest period. But we haven't met have we?" Tubbs thought of his locker back at the headquarters with the cellular phone. And his side-arm, firmly in its holster, also in the locker.
The small man in his gym shirt and shorts flashed his teeth. "No, Louis. Marcus and I set up the Alba brothers deal. He might have mentioned me. You guys were close, I think." Marcus was one of Sonny's cover names. But the Alba deal had gone bad. Or it had gone well if you were alright with a giant shipment of illegal drugs sinking to the bottom of the sea.
Tubbs slapped his head with fake drama. "Right. I remember you were on the boat with Marcus. With the head-scarf. I'm sure he told you we were only business acquaintances. He was supposed to stand on the sidelines with the guns." Tubbs closed his eyes and pretended to look sad. "But all that shooting? Bad for business. Real bad."
The small man nodded wisely. "Yeah. Once the shooting starts, it's hard to know when it's going to stop."
Tubbs knew Crockett had slipped out of sight quietly. It had all happened weeks before. "I hope you got that bastard? I was in the clinic for weeks. Nearly drowned. And the fire!" Tubbs tilted his head to show the redness that still marked the back of his neck.
The small man nodded more seriously this time. "He's still walking around. I think he cut a deal with the cops. But - don't worry - one of the brothers survived. He's arranged to go into hiding. Somewhere in Venezuela, at least that's what he told me. But before he goes..." He smiled. "Marcus will be having a little conversation. You know? Just to explain his actions."
Tubbs sat cold in the booth. Was the small man here to kill him too? Tubbs was a sitting target if anyone else was there, hiding, waiting to ambush him. But if it was just this man, on his own, he might have a chance to take him down.
"And we need your help to do it, Louis. What d'you think?"