“Sunup,” Monahan said.

“Little soon, isn’t it?” the blond said, frowning.

“Sooner the better. This is too wide-open here.”

“The road?”

“No, the town. You can’t predict jack shit in a place like this.”

True, I thought, gaining respect for him. Smart.

“And too small,” the older man went on. “Where do you fuckin’ lay low? I don’t know how in hell you ain’t been spotted.”

I wondered if Monahan was one of these guys who reverted to tough-guy talk on the job. Surely he didn’t talk like that pretending to be an insurance salesman. I lost respect for him.

“No problems,” the kid was saying, grinning, waving it off. “I got a good set-up-farmhouse right across the way.”

I’m guessing about “the way,” because a waitress in a white-trimmed brown uniform got between us, taking their order.

So I watched the bikini girls for a while. Shit, there were eight or nine of the little dolls frolicking around. Must not have been much to do in Haydee’s Port before nightfall.

The waitress left, and the kid asked: “So, first thing, then? Where, do you think?”

Monahan’s response seemed a non-sequitur: “Only three minutes from that joint to the Interstate ramp.”

“That’s good.” The kid was grinning again. “Perfect from where I’m sittin’.”

They stopped talking about the job. Monahan asked the kid about how Heather was doing, and she was doing fine, and this line of lip flap seemed to be about the kid’s girl or maybe wife. That meant these two worked together all the time. Not uncommon.

Then their food came, and I let them eat it. I was done with my Famous Bacon Cheeseburger and lesser known fries, and paid at the counter and got the fuck out. I had an idea I knew what they’d been talking about, but I wanted to check it out.