‘Chapter 2’ excerpt from A Spoiled Game: A Jack Swift Case by Carl Knauf
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Beckett peeked outside and said, “The sun always sets early in the city. You better get everyone that round before happy hour ends.”
“Thanks for the tip. Got any more for a new assistant director, partner?” Augusta asked, letting the responsibilities of her new role pile on her shoulders and push her into a slouch.
“Don’t be vulnerable, people always take advantage of the vulnerable, especially criminals. You can start by sitting up straight.”
She smirked and adjusted her bearing. “You mean criminals like Jack?”
“And you can stop thinking about Jack,” Beckett said, pointing a finger while keeping the rest of his grip around his glass.
“And when will you?”
A chortle escaped through Beckett’s nose. He finished the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. “I think I’m ready for that round you owe us.”
Augusta finished her drink as well and glanced at the bartender, ordering two more with a simple shake of her empty. She turned back to Beckett. “In all seriousness, thanks for showing me the ropes. You’ve meant a lot to me.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, now,” Beckett held up his hand. “No vulnerability… but, you’re welcome. I’m proud of you.”
Augusta smiled as an alert dinged from each of their cell phones. They checked the message. It read:
The Gang,
As I watch the sunset here, I remember it goes down earlier in the city, so I thought I would reach out before the happiness of Toodles’ party flirts with being forgotten. Congratulations on the promotion, my dear! You’re one of good character and flawless edges. Unfortunately, I can’t attend; I have work tonight like many of the black and blue suits that network in the hotel bar stories below. I prefer the latter style if I had a preference, and a much smaller gathering, but I don’t want to get too close because eavesdropping hasn’t had the best ending in this place.
“And whatever your progress, I know you’ll be fine.”
Warm Regards,
Jerry
Beckett said, “So much for not thinking about him. And here I was hoping for a fun, not-so-quiet night.”
Fleming scooted through his coworkers and placed his phone on the table. “I assume you’ve read the email.”
“No, Charlie, we’ve just been screwing around on some app. Of course we saw the email. Iris here can’t stop thinking about Jack.”
“Oh, give me a break, Jim,” Augusta responded. “I’ve never seen a grown man be more obsessed with another grown man as you are with him.”
“There’s the Iris I know and love. I knew that soft shit you were saying early was all for show.”
Fleming interrupted their banter, “Any ideas of where he could be?”
“Yeah,” Jim answered, “I think he’s right down the coast in D.C.”
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Carl Lawrence Knauf 