Flying Solo(49)

While they waited, Nick’s hand stayed on her waist, and eventually he hooked his thumb through the belt loop of her jeans. He had done this when they were younger, when they were dancing or leaning against his car, or when they were kissing in front of her house while her mother pretended not to peek out the window. She slid her hand up until it was resting on his elbow. He leaned over until his face brushed the hair by her ear, and she jumped again, and he said, maybe as quietly as anyone has ever said anything, “I’m hanging on to you because I’m afraid to touch anything else.”

If someone had flipped the light on right then, she knew exactly what they would see. She and Nick would both be grinning, both looking at the ground, leaning toward each other like they were slow-dancing, their eyes closed because it somehow felt like you could hear better that way.

Then there were voices, much closer. Matt. Someone else. Some guy. The first words Laurie could make out were “thought she was never going to shut up.” Then the door opened, and Laurie tried to breathe even more quietly, to barely breathe at all. It was really happening: She was in a closet, with her high school boyfriend, listening to a man talk to another man about an ill-gotten duck.

“So, tell me,” the other voice, which had to be Rocky, said. “Why am I here?”

“Like I told you on the phone,” Nick said, “it’s a Kittery, I’m positive. And I know you know guys in that market. I need a collector.” This Matt voice was mostly the same as the one Laurie knew, but a little more relaxed. A little more naked.

“Why don’t you find a buyer yourself? Or just take it to an auction? What’s this all about?” Rocky asked.

“I’m trying to keep this low profile,” Matt said, “and ideally I’m trying to keep myself out of it, you know, publicly.”

“And why’s that?” Good question, Rocky!

“I bought it from this woman, she didn’t know what it was worth. I offered to have it appraised for her and she turned me down. I told her what I thought it was, and she said she didn’t care, she just wanted to get rid of everything. I don’t want her to be pissed off after I sell it if she finds out, and I don’t want her to come back to me and complain.” Laurie tightened her hand again on Nick’s elbow. He even lies to his co-conspirators! This fuckin’ guy!

“Why am I not buying this?”

“How many questions do you want to ask?”

A little pause, maybe while Rocky considered how deep to get in. “What makes you think it’s real?” Rocky asked. “What do you have as far as provenance?” Provenance, Laurie had not known before but knew now, was the known history of a thing. It was the proof that the thing was what you said it was, and not, for instance, a souvenir bought in an airport.

He doesn’t have anything, Laurie thought. He doesn’t have any proof at all, and he’s going to skate through this anyway. But the next thing she heard was papers shuffling. And then Matt’s voice: “Here you go.” She squeezed Nick’s elbow even harder.

It was so quiet, she could hear that Rocky was holding at least two pages. What the hell? she thought. And then he said, “Huh. Okay.”

“Good enough, right?” Matt was very impressed with whatever documentation he had just provided. It took everything for Laurie not to throw the door open and grab it.

“Let’s say it is. If I find the buyer, what’s my fee?”

“Ten percent?”

“Come on, man. More like twenty-five. You don’t know shit about this market and you’re trying to keep a secret. It’s going to take me at least a few days of work to find your buyer. You don’t want me to ask questions, and you don’t want anybody else to ask them either. I’m taking all the risk.”

“Don’t be a hard-ass. I found it,” Matt groused, in precisely the put-upon tone of an outright con artist who thinks he’s being overcharged. It was his sincerity that was disquieting. It was his conviction that his biggest problem was that nobody would cut him a break.

“If you knew what the hell you’re doing, you wouldn’t need me,” Rocky said. “If you knew anything about anything, you could do this yourself. But you don’t, because you don’t have any experience, and because like I’ve told you a million times, it’s pretty obvious you don’t actually care. You try to deal with this, you’ll wind up with nothing. You might even get sued or arrested or haunted by some old lady’s ghost. Seventy-five percent is better than nothing. Give me the twenty-five and I’ll take care of it.”

“How about fifteen percent? I can give you fifteen percent.”

“You can give me twenty-five and a half.”

“You’re a shit.”

“Take it or leave it.” Rocky might have been a dirtbag, but Laurie got a tiny thrill from the fact that he was a better dirtbag than Matt. He was winning.

“Fine. I’ll give you twenty.” Never say die, asshole!

“It’s twenty-five, Matt. It’s twenty-five percent, you give me the thing, I’ll bring you back the money. We can both do well here. Don’t be stupid.”

There was a pause, and Laurie kind of enjoyed imagining Matt’s miserable, defeated, helpless expression. He’d gone to all this trouble to steal from her, and because he was such an ignorant lunkhead, he had to give 25 percent to somebody else just to make any money. She hoped he looked like a disappointed little troll. Specifically, like a disappointed little troll right after somebody punches it in the face.