Free Old Flame by Ira Berkowitz Page B

said.
    “Glad to hear it. What have you been up to?”
    “A little of this, a little of that.”
    Liam was one of those people who spilled his guts when ignored. I turned my attention to his sister.
    “Ginny, you called.”
    Before she could answer, Liam jumped back into the conversation.
    “There’s a couple of things I’m working on,” he said.
    “I hope they work out.”
    “Yeah. No more sucking hind tit for me. Them days are over.”
    “Good. Everyone needs to catch a break.”
    “The way I see it, you make your own breaks. I mean, you see an opportunity and you jump on it.”
    “The soul of capitalism. It’s what makes this country great.”
    His brow furrowed trying to make the connection. Finally, he gave up.
    “Whatever,” he said. “I got me a business.”
    “Good for you, Liam.”
    “Yeah, I’m a middleman.”
    “Really!” I said. “And what do you middle?”
    “I’d rather not talk about it, if you know what I mean.”
    “I do. When you’re in business, you can’t be too careful. Trade secrets. Corporate piracy. The threat is everywhere.”
    “You got that right,” he agreed.
    We sat quietly for a while. He took another swig of beer and wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve. “But seein’ as you’re family and all, and you know my partner, what harm could it do?” he said.
    “I know your partner?”
    “Your old buddy Danny Reno. We’re into electronic equipment. Entertainment systems. Expensive stuff. I could fix you up with a plasma TV, if you’re in the market. Insider price.”
    Danny Reno?
Talk about six degrees of separation!
    Liam heists the merchandise; Danny Reno fences it to his own company for a big payday, and then sells it to Barak for an even bigger payday, and promising a hundred percent refund. Liam, the brainiac, takes all the risks for pennies on the dollar. The guy was living proof of the axiom “Stupid is as stupid does.”
    “Thanks, but I don’t have a spare wall,” I said.
    “Well, the offer stands. Anyway, for the first time, I’m making real dough.”
    “I’m glad things are turning around for you.”
    “It’s like Jeanmarie says, ‘If at first you don’t succeed . . .’ ”
    “Words to live by.”
    “I haven’t seen Danny around lately, though.”
    “Probably out prospecting for more opportunities,” I said.
    “Yeah. I gotta hand it to Danny. The guy’s always thinking.”
    “So it seems,” I said.
    “Well,” he said, sliding out of the booth, “I gotta boogie. See ya, Steeg. And you,” he said to Ginny, “stop worrying, OK? Steeg’ll take it from here.”
    Ginny said nothing.
    After he had left, I asked Ginny the burning question. “Take what from here?”
    “I moved in with my parents, and Liam appointed himself my bodyguard.”
    “Now, that sounds like a plan. Protect you against what?”
    She reached into her pocketbook, withdrew an envelope, and handed it to me.
    “What’s this?”
    “Read it.”
    I did. Another death threat, but this time it was directed at Ginny.

CHAPTER
    16
    D ave’s house sat atop the New Jersey Palisades, a few miles north of the George Washington Bridge. It was raining, but when it was clear, the view was spectacular. From his living room window you could follow the line of Manhattan just about to the Battery. Dave had invited me for dinner and refused to take no for an answer.
    Franny went all out. Candles on the table, a standing rib roast that could easily feed twelve, and molten chocolate cake for dessert. For the most part, the conversation was light and easy, but all through dinner Franny seemed distracted. So did Dave. At bedtime, my nieces wanted me to tuck them in and show them my scar. I did. They thought it was cool.
    When I returned to the table, Franny was pouring coffee. “You showed them, didn’t you?” she said.
    “That’s what uncles are for.”
    She shook her head in mock dismay.
    “I understand you’ve been in touch with Ginny. Terrible what happened to her