Chapter 3
Rob’s office was in a high rise building on the ritzy Brickell Avenue. His condo was also on Brickell. The high rent district, if there ever was one. Rob lived in the biggest condo McKenzie had ever seen, not that he frequented such places very much, but he usually pictured them as a small one bedroom and combined kitchen living area, like the ones that most of his clients closer to Gainesville lived in.
Rob was starting to show signs of aging. His face had deeper creases, his hair was almost completely gray, and he now sported a shiny black cane gripped in his left hand, the slight lean of a man with a troubled hip or knee. And one who had two Purple Hearts for multiple bullet holes and hunks of shrapnel, some of which was still in his right hip.
“You look old,” McKenzie grinned as he gave his old friend a bear hug.
“Yeah, well we don’t all spend our spare time relaxing on a river. Some of us work and get old like normal people.” Rob then turned to John, giving him a knowing grin as they, too, hugged.
“And look how good I look! Not a day over…”
“Is it seventy, Mac?” John piped in.
“Close enough.” McKenzie shrugged as they followed Rob into his living room.
McKenzie and John sat on the couch as Rob lowered himself into a dark brown recliner. McKenzie scanned the house and noticed the feminine touches. It had been years since he had seen his friend, and back then he was still in the aftermath of a nasty divorce. Looking around, McKenzie was sure that Rob had a new lady in his life. The thought had barely finished when a gorgeous brunette, slim with an olive complexion, walked in from the kitchen with a tray holding glasses of lemonade balanced on one hand. She smiled as she sat it down on the coffee table, kissed Rob on the cheek and waved to McKenzie and John before grabbing her purse and heading out the door.
“We scare off your company?” McKenzie arched a brow as he grabbed one of the glasses, condensation already beading the outside as the ice clinked around.
“That’s my girlfriend Diane, and she lives here, so behave yourself, Cap’n.” Rob leaned back, sighing in exhaustion.
McKenzie took a sip of the cool drink before nodding in acknowledgment. Rob looked worn, very worn, and McKenzie felt legitimate concern beginning to take over.
“What’s going on, Rob?” McKenzie tilted his head, trying to read the man’s face.
“Damned if I know, Mac. My son, Bobby is acting weird as hell. I really hate to say it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s on something. His ex-wife Karen called me up telling me she hasn’t been able to get ahold of Bobby or the kids. Apparently, he had them for a few weeks this summer and a few days ago they just stopped responding to texts and messages. Caleb is 18 and Catelyn is 16, and they live on their phones, so the sudden inactivity has her worried. With Bobby not saying a damn thing, something is going on. I asked Karen not to call the cops and told her I’d see what I could find out and make sure everything’s okay. But, honestly, the police might be the answer.”
McKenzie glanced at John, who was jotting down everything in a notebook. He had a bad feeling about the whole situation, and once again the thought that he wanted more action was coming back to bite him in the ass.
“So what do you want me to do? Follow your boy? Talk to him? Check out his place?”
“Any and all of the above. I can’t do field work anymore, as you can see, and I would be a bit obvious if he caught me on his tail. He doesn’t remember you, and your lithe young figure is more apt to getting in places that need lookin’ at.”
“Alright. Sounds good. You got a good suggestion on a place for us to crash a few days?”
“Yes, my firm has a few rooms at the Coral Shell a few blocks down. I already called in a room with two singles, assuming you two still sleep separately, and you’re good to go. Anything you charge to the room outside of meals is on you, though.”
“Aw, Rob, you’re so accommodatin’. I really was hopin’ we could snag a king size for me and Watson here, snuggle down like in the trench days.” John put on a bored expression as Rob chuckled.
“I miss you sometimes, smartass.”
“Yeah, I miss you too, you old fart.” McKenzie stood and accepted the piece of paper Rob handed him.
“That’s my son’s full name, his ex-wife’s, and the kids, as well as contact phone numbers, addresses, email and descriptions. You need anything else, just let me know. And I know I don’t need to say it, but keep me in the loop, Cap’n. Please.”
“Wilco, Rob. Take care and we’ll get back to you soon.”
McKenzie and John left the condo and headed to the hotel. It was a four-story building painted in one of the horrid shades of orangey-pink familiar to the middle and lower end places on the coast. Grabbing the duffel bags they had packed before heading out, McKenzie went to the counter and got the room keys for room 302. Once they had the bags thrown on their selective beds, John set up the laptop on the small round table while McKenzie checked over his weaponry and gadgets. He knew he probably wouldn’t use any of it, but it felt good to do something with his hands while he thought about their newest case.
Feeling the fatigue of taking a long drive after a full day of work, and the subsequent meeting with Rob, they decided to get some sleep and begin then get to work in the morning. McKenzie knew his meds would benefit in helping him sleep, but the memory of the previous night’s flashbacks had him dreading being too deep to easily wake-up. Shrugging, he took half of his usual dose and climbed into the rock hard bed.
The Old Farts In Miami Page 5