"No."
"That was always your problem. You took yourself too seriously. If I wanted to come at you, I'd have come at you. I was playing. Ask Evie. That's my idea of play." He paused. "Nah, better not ask Evie. She might give you a whole other definition, and that's more than you need to hear."
"What do you want?"
"To hire you."
"No."
Cypress tried glancing over his shoulder, but Jack pressed the gun barrel in harder.
"You sure your memory's fine?" Cypress said. "You do know I've seen what you look like. I also know what your girl here looks like. Dee, right?"
"That a threat?" Jack said.
Cypress threw up his hands. "Fuck, you are impossible to talk to. Everything's a threat. Everything's personal. I meant you might as well let me turn around since I've seen you both already. I'm here because I want to hire you, okay? That's it."
"No."
"Jack is in the process of retiring," I said, because at this rate, we'd be here all morning, Jack refusing to give an explanation that required more than three words.
I walked in front of Cypress. "That means he isn't taking on any new clients, and he's doing jobs for very few of his old ones. If you wanted to ask, though, the correct protocol would be to call."
"I don't have a phone."
I gave him a look.
"I don't. Been living up north for fifteen years, out where a phone is as useful as a rock. Even if I could find a pay phone around here--and these days, they're scarce as hen's teeth--any number I have for Jack wouldn't work. No one in the biz keeps a number that long."
"You mentioned Evelyn, who is much easier to contact and who could pass along a message."
"Yeah, no. It's harder for Jack to refuse when I'm out here, in his face. I'm good at getting in faces. Good at getting people's attention."
"By taking Jack's girlfriend hostage until he agrees to your job?"
Cypress's broad forehead screwed up. "What? Hell, no. That'd be a fucking stupid idea, considering your alternate line of employment."
"It's been tried."
He snorted. "Like I said, fucking idiots are everywhere. Let me guess. Moron never even managed to catch you, right?"
True enough, but I only shrugged. "This might be different. I'm at home. My guard's lowered. You're a big guy. It's possible."
"If I'd planned that, I'd at least have pretended I was allergic to dogs. Get you to leave your pooches behind. You think those two would let me take you?" He shook his head. "I'm here to ask you to do a job. Both of you."
"Do it yourself," Jack said.
"I can't. It's not my kind of thing. Too much investigation. I gotta find the mark first. That isn't my talent. I'm a point-and-shoot guy. You point 'em out. I shoot 'em. Well, without actually shooting."
"Because that isn't sporting?" I said.
He only shrugged. "Either way, Jack's always done a helluva lot more research than me, and now I hear he's with a girl who's good at that stuff, too. I didn't know you'd been a cop, but now that makes sense. You've got the skills."
"You said you'd done law enforcement."
"I was the sheriff in a very, very, very small town. Only thing they needed was someone to kick ass and keep folks in line, which I do very well. But now a woman I care about is in trouble, and someone's gotta die to keep her safe, and finding that someone is way above my pay scale. So I'm coming to you. If you'll let me explain--"
"An hour," Jack said.