"You look like you saw a ghost," Tate said.

I looked up from the letter I'd been staring at for five minutes. "What? Oh. Yeah. Almost. Mr. Tate, you told me it was honest money."

He did not say anything. He had suspected it was something shady.

"You had any unusual visitors? Sudden old friends of Denny's asking questions?"

"No."

"You will. Soon. There's too much here for them to let it go. Be careful."

"What do you mean?"

It seemed an honest question. So maybe he did not know the world well enough to read what Denny had written. I laid it out for him.

He did not believe me.

"Doesn't matter what either of us thinks. The point is, so far I'm interested enough to keep on. I'll need that thousand. There are going to be heavy expenses from the start. And a box. I need a big box."

"I'll have Lester bring the money from the office. Why do you want a box?"

"To pack all this stuff."

"No."

"Say what?"

"You're not taking it out of here."

"I'm taking it or I'm taking me away. You want me to do a job, you let me do it. My way."

"Mr. Garrett... "

"Pop, you're paying for results, not the right to mess with me. Get me a box, then go pound nails in a shoe. I don't have time for whining and games."

He hadn't recovered from what I had said about Denny. He did not have any fight left. He took off.

The funny thing was he left me feeling guilty, like I had been giving him a hard time just to puff up my own ego. I didn't need that guilt. So I ended up giving in and just letting everything go the way Tate wanted.