The busy street went through a neighborhood of older two-story run-down houses and neglected landscaping. “We’re here anyway.” I parked at the curb near a street corner and opened my door, outside which stood a saint wearing an L. L. Bean duster.I have read all three of Frank's Underground books. You can find my reviews for the first two titles in my blog archives and on Amazon. I haven't had a chance to read the final draft of DHL yet, but it was pretty awesome in the first draft. Word of warning: Frank's books are blatantly Christian (although quite unorthodox).
The symp who donated the coats to the BoC sure made it easy to recognize each other. Too easy. I had to wonder if the garments were already part of our FBT profile.
I greeted the man, “Howzit, G?”
The hefty guy with sandy hair lowered his comshades to reveal gold eyes. “S’awight. You bring me a package?”
“I sure did.” Toad got out the passenger side and e-girl behind him. “Here he is. Take good care of him, will’ya?”
“Good care. You keep it tight, Kid.”
Toad came around the truck and shook my hand. “It’s been my pleasure workin’ with the famous Calamity Kid.”
“His will, Toad, and His glory.” They turned to leave and I walked to the rear of the truck.
e-girl had already opened the cap, the tailgate, and the her case. “It’s in this one.” She passed her hand slowly over the circuit boards. She slowed, brushing each with her fingertips, and then plucked one out. “Got it. Let’s go.”
We hopped in the truck’s cab, but I did not start the engine.
She rolled her eyes. “I just want to get back home and out of camera view. Now what are we doing?”
“Waiting for Toad to get out of sight.” I watched his back as he and G walked down the street.
“Oh come on already!”
“I don’t like the idea of driving back across the ’Plex in such a recognizable truck right after pulling a job on a MegaCorp like Ash. Can I borrow one of your graffiti markers?”
She handed me her whole set. I chose dark blue and scribbled on the back of one of Toad’s junk mail envelopes and spoke as I wrote. “The Latin…Kings are…wimps.”
e-girl just looked at me as I reached around the windshield and stuck the note under a wiper blade. I left all the truck doors open, the keys in the ignition, and began walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of Toad and G’s exit. My sister tagged along.
I explained myself as we headed for a bus stop. “The Latin Kings are the local street gang here in North Aurora, and one of Chicago’s largest. By the time anyone follows us here on the streetlight cams, that truck and everything inside it will be stripped down and scavenged for spare parts.”
Blog Tour Sites:
[R. L. Copple] . [Kat Heckenbach] . [Diane M. Graham]
[Travis Perry] . [Paul Baines] . [Keven Newsome]
[Robynn Tolbert] . [Jennifer Rogers] . [Fred Warren]
[Ryan Grabow] . [Greg Mitchell] . [Grace Bridges]