“Hey, I don’t know whether the guy is your father or not. He says he is, and he paid me to find you. It wasn’t easy, since he couldn’t remember your mother’s last name.”
“Sounds like a real winner,” I say. “Abandons two kids and can’t even remember their mother’s name. Can’t even remember his kids’ names.”
“Hey,” Greene says. “I just do the jobs they pay me for.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “I want his name and his contact information.”
“Our deal was for his name,” Greene says.
“The deal has changed. What the hell good does a name do me? If his name is Bob Smith, I’ll be on a wild goose chase.”
“His name isn’t Bob Smith.”
“Good. I need it and the contact information.” I take a sip of coffee.
“Then I’ll need—”
“John,” Dad begins. “May I call you John?”
“Uh…sure. No problem.”
“Good.” Dad gets serious. “John, it’s no secret who we are. You know we’re good for any deal we make, but my son is correct. The name by itself does us no good. We need all the information you have on this client of yours.”
“I won’t be in business long if I divulge that kind of information.”
I roll my eyes. “You claiming ethics?”
“I guess I am,” he says.
“You already left your ethics at the door when you agreed to give me the guy’s name,” I say. “I guess now we’re just deciding on the price.”
“Dale…” Dad says.
“Sorry, Dad, but it’s bullshit. He’s willing to play ball. He just wants more money.”
“I know that.” Dad grins. “You think this is my first horse race?”
I can’t help it. I laugh out loud. Leave it to Dad to be one step ahead.
Greene stands. “I don’t have to sit here and be insulted.”
“You do if you want any money out of us,” Dad says.
“You weren’t part of the bargain anyway,” Greene says to Dad. “I was just supposed to meet with him.”
“My son and I have no secrets.”
Well, we have a few. But not many. I have mine, and apparently Dad’s been keeping something huge from me.
“What does it matter?” I say. “We’re both here now, and the information is important to both of us. For some reason, my alleged father wants to find me. Have you given him my contact information?”
“I haven’t. Not yet.”
“Why not? Didn’t he pay you for it?”
Greene reddens.
“Just what I thought,” I say. “You’re willing to sell the information to the highest bidder. That’s us. No contest.”
“You’re not wrong,” he says. “Your father only paid me a hundred bucks to find you. The only reason I was able to do it on such a low budget was because I found out you and your brother were adopted into such a high-profile family.”
“I assume the hundred bucks was all he had, then,” Dad says.
“So he says.”
“If you’re that worried about saving face with your client,” I say, “tell him you couldn’t find anything for the minuscule amount he paid you. Give us his information, and we’ll keep your name out of it.”
“Good idea, Dale,” Dad agrees.
“I’ve got a grand in Benjis here now,” I say. “If the information proves to be good, you can expect another grand.”
Greene pulls a small manila envelope out of his jacket pocket and slides it toward me. I place my hand on it.
“Where’s the cash?” he asks.
“Sorry. I get to look at the information first.”
“How do I know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?”
“Are you accusing my son of welching on a deal?” Dad says, his dark eyes angry.
“I’m just, you know, being careful.”
I tug the envelope out from under his fingers. “You’ll get paid. But I see what’s in here first.” I break the seal.
Inside is one sheet of paper with a few words handwritten on it.
Floyd Jolly. An address in Grand Junction, and a phone number.
Floyd? My father’s name is Floyd? His last name is Jolly? This sounds like a bad joke.
I hand the paper to Dad. As he glances over it, I pull my own white envelope out of my pocket and slide it across the table to Greene. “If this information turns out to be good, expect to hear from us. If not, you’ll never get another penny.”
“Good enough.” Greene opens the envelope and quickly counts the bills. “This is more money than I’ve seen in a while.” He stands. “Nice doing business with you fellas.”
“Can’t say the same,” I can’t resist responding.
“Come on,” Greene says. “Without guys like me in the world, who the hell would you be able to pay off?”
The man has a point. Still, my hand curls into a fist. I really want to punch his smug face and shove his bald head into a wall.
“Easy,” my dad says under his breath.
Once he’s out of the café, Dad turns to me. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To this address. Let’s meet this elusive father of yours.”