Tim Dorsey - Gator A-GO-GO

“He said an hour from now.”

“That’s why it’s time.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be fine. Just make sure not to fuck up your end.” He patted his jacket pocket. “Call me on the cell if it looks like I’m made on the way-or if anything else is out of place once I’m inside.” He hopped out.

Miguel watched as Guillermo waited for traffic to clear before jogging across A1A, still moist and shining in the moonlight from an earlier rain. Miguel picked up binoculars, tracking his colleague. Guillermo avoided the main lobby entrance and circled to the pool deck. Binoculars slowly panned the main entrance. Tourists unsteadily getting out of a cab and laughing. Idiots. The magnified field of vision drifted southward over the parking lot. A family at an open trunk struggled with a stubborn baby stroller that wouldn’t close. Miguel smiled. Farther, a bum on a park bench. Worth watching. Common stakeout disguise. A romantic couple strolled past the bench and suddenly high-stepped as the bum vomited explosively toward their feet. Well, there’s undercover and then there’s what can’t be faked. The binoculars moved on, reaching the street straight out the windshield in front of him. Coast clear. Time to pan back the other way.

Suddenly, his entire view was filled with a crazy, smiling face. “ Ahhhhh! ” Miguel jumped back in his seat and dropped the binoculars.

Serge waved manically, wearing his most tattered comfy T-shirt and sweat pants. He walked around and tapped the side glass.

Miguel hit an electric level, lowered the window a slit. “Get lost!”

“I’m not asking for money or to clean your windshield with spit.”

“I said, get lost!”

“Just need a light. Mine got all wet when I was caught in the rain.”

“Are you deaf?”

“It’s only a stupid light.”

The window rolled up.

Serge knocked on the glass. Miguel stared straight ahead. Serge knocked and knocked. His voice was muted through the closed window: “Be a neighbor.”

“Goddamn it!” Miguel lowered it a slit again. “I’m warning you!”

“We’re wasting time arguing, when I could already be long gone. Just a light. Come on.”

“Fuck it.” Miguel reached in a hip pocket for his Zippo, opened the window the rest of the way and held it outside. “Where’s your cigarette?”

“I don’t smoke.”

“Then why’d you ask for a light?”

“To keep your hands busy and away from the gun. You’re the lookout.”

“Shit!” Miguel went for the piece in his jacket but stopped when he felt a cold barrel on his cheek.

NINE O’CLOCK

Rood had been waiting by the bus since eight, wearing his sexiest, tightest slacks and a silk shirt. He checked his watch again.

9:01.

Two women trotted across the street.

“There you are,” said Rood.

“Worried we were going to be late?”

“Not for a second.”

He took one on each arm. “Shall we?”

The trio strolled up the drive and through the resort’s automatic lobby doors.

“My gosh,” said Country. “Can’t believe we forgot.”

“Forgot what?” asked City.

“You know. The drugstore. ”

“What’s at the drugstore?” asked Rood.

The women tittered. “It’s a surprise.”

“Something we can’t do without.” City opened her purse. “Here’s our room key and number. Why don’t you go up and make yourself at home? This’ll just take a few minutes.”

“You both have to go?”

Giggles again.

“I get it,” said Rood. “A chick deal, like restrooms.”

They took a couple steps back toward the entrance. Country stopped and turned around. “Oh, one more thing. If anyone asks, your name is Serge.”

“Serge?”

“That’s my uncle.”

“Why do I have to say I’m your uncle? For that matter, who’s going to ask? Is someone else staying with you?”

“No,” said City. “And it’ll probably never come up.”

“That’s right,” said Country. “Shouldn’t have mentioned anything. Forget about it.”

“Wait a minute,” said Rood. “I don’t want to get in the middle of a situation. Is this like a jealous boyfriend or something?”

“Or something.”

Rood fished the magnetic room key from his pocket. “Maybe I ought to take a rain check.”

Country went over and wrapped sultry arms around Rood’s neck. “Look, it is my boyfriend. And he is jealous. Very jealous. But he’s also totally harmless. I’m not worried about him doing something crazy; I’m worried about him breaking up with me.”

“Guy’s a pussycat,” City said from behind. “Once he thought my boyfriend was flirting with Country, and it took us twenty minutes to stop his crying.”

“He’s got a good heart,” said Country, tightening her arms around Rood’s neck. “But sometimes I need a real man.”

“I help where I can,” said Rood. “My name’s Sal.”

“Serge.”

“Right, Serge. How long you going to be?”

Automatic doors slid open. “Back before you know it.”

A rabbit argued with a Martian.

Coleman giggled on the couch and popped a beer. “Serge, come quick! This is the one where Bugs goes to the moon and saves our planet. It’s so realistic.”

“I’m busy.” He grabbed his cell and started to dial. He stopped and looked at it. “Battery’s dead! Of all times-not now!” He ripped apart his suitcase. “Where’s that damn charger?…”

“What about the room phone?”

“Might be traced…” He snatched car keys from the dresser.

“Where are you going?” asked Coleman.

“ … You have stolen the D-12 modulator… ”

“Find a pay phone.” He ran for the door, unbolting locks. “But where are pay phones these days with all the cells? Now I’ll be late and screw up the Master Plan. I’m so stupid!”

“Why don’t you just use Andy’s phone?”

Serge slowly walked back. “Just about to think of that.” He reached the dresser and picked up the disposable phone he’d confiscated at the Casino kiddie pool.

“ … Earth to Bugs, come in… ”

Serge dialed. “Hello, is this the anonymous Crime-Stopper Tip Reward Hotline?… Oh, I’ve got a tip all right! Real doozy! Someone you been looking all over for, possibly committing a crime as we speak. Here’s the address…”

Bugs clung to the tip of a crescent moon.

“… Thanks,” said Serge. “And may I say your phone manners have been impeccable, not like those 911 operators who never take me seriously when they’re tearing down a landmark. If that isn’t an emergency, what is?”

“ … Get me out of here!!!!!… ”

Serge plopped on the sofa next to Coleman. “What did I miss?”

“The whole thing.”

“Dang, and it was one of my favorites.”

“Another’s coming on.”

“Righteous! I love this one!”

Coleman grabbed another beer. “What about that lookout guy you got in your trunk?”

“He’ll keep,” said Serge. “Pump up the volume.”

Rood pressed an elevator button. His mind fluttered through porno reels of his deepest fantasies.

The appointed floor was empty except for room service trays. Rood whistled down the hall. He stopped in front of a door and checked the number against the magnetic key’s sleeve.

Rood went inside the dark unit and closed the door behind him. He felt along the wall for a light switch. Before he could find one, a lamp came on across the room.

“Who are you?” asked Rood.

Guillermo sat in a cushy chair, gun resting on the arm. “You know who I am.”