After two rings, a cigarette-roughed voice answered. “Decker,” it said. “Hey, this is Frank Behr. Your wife is friends with my girl,” Behr said, trying to keep the tone of the condemned man out of his voice. “I was supposed to call you to meet up.” “Yeah, hey. And when you did, I was supposed to go,” Decker said without enthusiasm but also without pause. “So when do you want to do it?” “When do you?” There was no sense in dragging it out, Behr figured. “You on shift tonight?” “Nope.” This didn’t surprise Behr, knowing what he did about Decker’s forced vacation. “So how about in a little while?” “All right. Where?” Behr cast about for a place to meet and said the first one that popped into his head. “The Wild Beaver.” “Wild Beaver …?” Decker couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice. “I’m not far from it. Six o’clock?” “All right then. Six o’clock.” Behr still had time to make it back to the office for a few ceremonial hours, but missing the marketing meeting as he had could result in a reprimand he wasn’t much interested in.
What do You think about Thirteen Million Dollar Pop?
