Free Formerly Fingerman by Joe Nelms Page B

help. But I swear, I didn’t see anything.”
    â€œAll right. Take some time and think about it.”
    Brittany handed Brad her card. “Seriously, we really need you.”
    Brad put the unopened Pepsi on the table, took her card and put it in his wallet. But honestly, he was only being polite.

Back to Normal
    The subway ride home took forever. Or maybe it took a few minutes. Brad couldn’t remember. His head swirled as he relived his drastic change of fortunes and focused on accepting his good luck. He’d had a great interview and beaten a murder rap all in less than three hours. Technically, a great day.
    He had revived his plan to pop in and surprise Gracie with his great news (the job, not his release from FBI custody). She was working from home and it had been awhile since she had been impressed with him for anything besides some phony accomplishment he had cooked up for the sake of continuing his façade of employment. Today he had something real for her. Something he could honestly brag about. Perhaps he could add afternoon delight to his banner day before heading back to his minimum wage job handing out fliers in a chicken suit. God, success felt good.
    James the doorman gave Brad the same obsequious smile he always gave when residents came through the revolving doors before saying the exact same thing he always said.
    â€œAll right.”
    All right. Not that Brad had asked how everything was going. Or how tricks were. Or how he was feeling. He smiled hello and James, as usual, offered up an “All right.” Kind of a utility tool for almost any conversation a doorman might have with a tenant.
    Hey, James. My toilet’s clogged up again and my buddies are coming for poker night.
    All right.
    Oh, James, would you mind keeping my spare keys behind the desk down here? You know how forgetful I am.
    All right.
    James, I’m having a half pound of rock-star hashish delivered by an albino midget who’s on the run from a band of Ugandan warlords.
    All right.
    Didn’t make the slightest difference. Although, today James did seem to hold his suck-up smile a little longer than normal. And what was with him watching Brad walk the entire length of the lobby? That guy was just plain unsettling.
    Maybe he was on alert because of his creepy doorman. Maybe his adrenaline-addled senses were heightened to the levels of a meth head at a fireworks show thanks to his felony arrest and release. Either way, Brad’s ears picked up the pounding by the time he was halfway down the hall of his floor.
    THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Something was banging against a wall. It sounded like a fight. With rhythm.
    Brad walked up to his front door and listened. It was coming from his apartment. And it wasn’t a fight.
    As Brad entered his apartment and saw a tool belt that didn’t belong to him on the floor, he got the distinct feeling that James had lied to him. Things were definitely not all right.
    He had watched enough Maury to know damn well what was going on, but Brad decided to go see the raw and unforgiving truth anyway. Jesus, this was a weird day. He sighed and trudged down the hall.
    And there in the bedroom was Gracie. With the cable guy. And they were having the kudos sex Brad was planning on having with her. The awesome, toe curling, gasping for breath, where-have-you-been-all-my-life sex Brad had felt so confident in anticipating. What could she possibly be congratulating the cable guy for?
    Fortunately, both Gracie and the man she was currently involved with were facing away from the doorway Brad was standing in, so there was no need for anyone to say, “Do you mind?” or “Well, this is awkward.”
    â€œOh God. (THUMP) Oh God. (THUMP) Oh God. (THUMP) This is the (THUMP) best sex (THUMP) (THUMP) I’ve ever had. (THUMP) (THUMP) So much better (THUMP) (THUMP) (THUMP) than my husband. (THUMP) (THUMP) (THUMP) And the plumber. (THUMP) (THUMP) (THUMP) And the neighbor.