"I was only half-listening."
"Kip says they've got nothing... just a rifle... no casings, no prints. They had Abir on street cams until the crowd surged. He must have shed the hoodie then because, after, he's just... gone. The FedEx guy was a bust... he heard shots and saw the commotion, but nothing else. No leads, no one claiming responsibility, nothing. The only thing they've to go on is what Abir said to us about Hollywood and a reality show... which could mean many things... or nothing at all."
"Who's Kip?"
"He's a friend of mine with the FBI."
"Is he cute?"
"Straight." He circled a flat palm. "Focus."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what to think. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours."
"Feeling a little like Keifer Sutherland?"
"You're learning my language... it was inevitable. So, this Kip guy... what did he suggest?"
"That maybe the whole thing was a stunt."
"Really? For what... a reality show? That's a little crazy, don't you think?"
"Maybe," he said, standing and joining Demarco at the table. "Who knows? I don't watch that crap."
"Whatdoyou watch?"
"Gilligan's Island."
"Seriously."
"What's wrong with Gilligan?"
"Nothing, it just predates your birth."
"Andy Griffith?The Brady Bunch?"
"The same. Is there even a channel that still shows that stuff?"
"Yes... and I have them on DVD."
"Oh, no... first classic rock, now classic TV," Demarco said, planting his face in his palms.
Jack grinned. "So maybe I like the simpler times... the basics. Maybe I need Herman and Lily to unwind from a tense day."
"If you say so."
Jack reached under the table and squeezed Demarco's knee. "Is that a deal-breaker?"
"No, but you've put a serious challenge to my wit."
"You don't have to be funny for me, D."
They were looking at each other, the moment both easy and awkward... as if they'd known each other for years and then remembered they'd just met. Demarco stood, and stepped behind Jack's chair, placing his hands on the plateaus of Jack's naked shoulders. He squeezed them, kneading the firm flesh with his fingers and pressing his thumbs into his lower neck.
"OK. You keep that up and I'll surrender the DVDs."
"No, you keep your sanity. I can live with Aunt Bee."
He continued with the massage and Jack's head succumbed to gravity. Demarco's fingers crept farther into his hair, eventually finding and circling his temples. He sighed.
