Louis Shalako: The Shape-Shifters, Chapter Thirteen. Louis Shalako.

It really is a nice truck, ladies.

Chapter Thirteen

Ted and Jeff cruised slowly past…

Ted and Jeff cruised slowly past the coffee shop, staring at the front window, but to little or no avail. The angle was wrong. With the brilliant white light coming off the snow, the glare on the shop windows prevented them from seeing in.

“I saw him go in there, Jeff.” Ted was insistent. “It was Frenchie for sure, and he had a moll with him.”

“A what?” Jeff gaped.

“A moll—like a chick, a broad, a dame.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. I knew this would happen.” Ted was so fuckin’ immature.

“We really can’t keep popping up every place he goes.” Ted’s mind crawled along at a snail’s pace, but Jeff agreed so far.

It wasn’t that much of a stretch to look for a parking spot, one where they could use the mirrors. That way if Frenchie came out on the sidewalk and began walking in their direction, he wouldn’t catch sight of their faces, and they could fire up and pull away.

Jeff was learning, but he was learning pretty good. It was all just a matter of logic and foresight, he reckoned.

They sat in the truck, engine running, while Jeff adjusted the right side mirror using the remote control.

“There. That’s it.” Ted had a proper view now.

Watching that passenger side mirror...

Ted could monitor the sidewalk as well, and take some of the workload off of Jeff.

“So you figure the best thing to do is grab him when he comes out.” Ted nodded. “I guess that’s pretty smart, if we can do it.”

“It seems like a one-in-a-million shot. And honestly, I think we have to bring in a couple of other guys. We have to sleep sometime. Hell, we got to go and fill up on gas sometimes. That’s how we lost him earlier.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ted agreed.

It was a good thing for them that Frenchie, this Gagnon character, was shoveling his way all over town, or they would have lost him for the day.

The two of them were talking it out, planning, or pre-planning, finding all the little problems as they went. Ted even had a few rough sketches of the surrounding country, although they were pretty basic.

“One of our questions, did they have a vehicle? And what happened to it? How well planned was it?” Jeff had nothing but questions. “Did these guys have a place to go and hole up? You’d think they would, right?”

“Yes.” Teddy agreed with all of that.

He had a clipboard with all sorts of news articles on there. Holy crap. At this point Jeff wasn’t sure just how seriously he was taking it. Not so far. But Ted seemed to be going all out. Not that a little hard information wouldn’t be helpful. Ted had a real road map, and a pen, and some blank paper. Huh.

Jeff drove to where they were meeting Slick Wilson and Harry Morden. Before they got to the place, Jeff turned the volume down on the music.

“You do the talking. But don’t tell them one or two things they don’t need to know. Let’s just find out if they want to do this first. Once you tell them about it, you’ve pretty much committed all of us to something, a conspiracy or something.”

“We shouldn’t actually be carrying too much stuff around with us.” Teddy gave his clipboard a little shake. “But the other guys will want to know everything. You know that.”

“Yeah. If we split four ways, it’s still a hundred-twenty-five grand each. That’s all I know.” Jeff had a gentle flush of something visceral.

The whole notion was a real cure for constipation.

...what is this, the cure for constipation?

“Where are we going to go for a briefing?” Jeff had to ask...Ted was serious, or so it seemed.

“I guess down in your basement. That will have to do. There they are.” Teddy sat up as the other pair came out of the door of Wilson’s place and then stood by the end of the driveway.

“Shove that stuff under the seat for a while. If anyone asks, we’re doing estimates for roofs, or siding, or something.” Jeff pulled to a stop.

The boys got in, and the truck moved off again.

Jeff became uncomfortably aware of a cop car a couple of blocks up ahead, as if guilt was written all over his face. The feeling quickly subsided, and he realized it was just silly. They can’t read your mind, right? The cop car cruised past uneventfully.

Slick and Harry sat in the back, not having much to say this morning.

“We’re going over to my place.” Jeff was driving nice for a change.

“Got any beer?” Slick asked with no hesitation.

“Maybe a couple.” Jeff made the admission cautiously.

“You can’t get too drunk. We have an idea we want to run past you guys.” Ted looked over the back seat.

“You want to get stoned and go hunting tonight. Yeah, we know.” Harry, still looking a bit hungover.

They all laughed. Jeff and Ted left it there for the moment.

END