Free Jump the Gun by Zoe Burke Page A

decided to stick around for a couple of days after the wedding. Luis turned out to be the perfect driver.” I smiled at Luis.
    â€œSo, Mr. Maldonado, what’s your story?”
    â€œI could not have picked up any lady last night since I was with this couple from about six on.”
    â€œThen how do you explain the report that your cab was outside the Royal Opal last night and Mary Rosen was seen getting in it?”
    Luis thought for a moment and came up with an answer. “I wasn’t driving this cab last night. I drove my own car, it’s nicer, and these people wanted a nice evening. I left the cab in the street. Perhaps someone took it for a joy ride?” I didn’t think this explanation was going to fly, but if these guys really weren’t police, and they were only looking for Mary, then any explanation would do.
    â€œWhere did you park the cab?” one of them asked. The guy with hair. The other guy was bald. They didn’t wear uniforms or hats.
    â€œOn Locust Street, not far from my house.”
    â€œWas it there when you got back last night?”
    â€œI didn’t look last night, but when I went to get it this morning, it was there.”
    â€œAll right,” Baldy said. “Give me your card. We may want to get in touch with you again.” Luis reached in his pocket and pulled out two business cards, one each for Moe and Curly. Then Moe turned to us. “Are you staying at this motel, just in case we need to contact you again?”
    Great. Do we make this up, too? See what I mean about telling the truth? When you don’t, you just have to keep making more stuff up.
    Mickey answered. “No, in fact we’re leaving today for San Francisco. But let me give you my card with my cell phone on it; feel free to call me.” Mickey patted his pockets and then shrugged. “Sorry, I guess I’m out. I’ll write it down on Luis’ card.”
    Moe handed him the card and gave him a pen. “All right, thanks, Mr. Paxton. Ms. Starkey. Hey, you’re not related to Ringo, are you?”
    I shook my head and groaned. “You wouldn’t believe how often I’m asked that.”
    Moe and Curly got back in their Buick and drove away. I turned to Luis and Mickey. “Would either of you like to clue me in here?”
    Luis answered. “They’re not the police. I gave Mick a signal and he picked up on it. Nice to be working as a team.” He nodded at Mickey and Mickey nodded back. Man stuff, I guess.
    â€œHow do you know they’re not the police? Do you know every single cop in these here parts?” I was starting to talk like a cowboy, but there was some male-bonding thing going on, and I got sucked in.
    â€œNo, I don’t,” Luis said. “But I saw the bald-headed one’s revolver, a Smith and Wesson .38. It’s not a gun that any policeman on duty would carry. And, I didn’t recognize them. And, their shoes were wrong. They were fancy leather, with thin soles.” To tell you the truth, this last statement made the most sense to me. I’m a firm believer that you can judge a person by his or her shoes. I looked at Mickey’s feet and was relieved to see that he was wearing a nice pair of Cole Hahn brown casuals: stylish, but not flamboyant; practical, but not clunky; masculine, but not macho.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “So let’s get the hell out of Dodge.” Mickey and Luis each had a slight smile as I turned away from them and walked back to the cab. I hoped they’d notice I was swaggering a little. I turned around to face them. “You know, if those guys weren’t cops, and they’re looking for Mary, then Mary is hooked up in something bad, and probably is connected with Jake. And we really don’t know anything about her at all and we can’t trust her at all. And we’re still in a lot of trouble.”
    â€œYes. All true. We don’t know who we can