I heard a soft laughing noise. ‘How you doing, Joe?’ he said. ‘Christ, it’s been a long time.’
‘It didn’t have to be. I’d been sitting in your jail for seven years. You could’ve stopped by anytime.’
‘I didn’t think that would be a smart thing to do. But we do need to talk. Why don’t you drive out to the Mills Farm Road out in Chesterville. I’ll meet you there in a half-hour.’
‘I don’t know, Dan, I’d feel more comfortable if we talked somewhere more public. How about Zeke’s Tavern?’
There was more soft laughing. ‘That wouldn’t be very smart, Joe. No, I don’t think we want publicity. I also don’t think it would be very smart to show your face at Zeke’s. I’ll meet you out in Chesterville in a half-hour.’ There was a click as he hung up.
I walked two doors over to Ron Hardacher’s house and got my Mustang convertible out of his garage. I knew Dan would prefer it if I were dead, but I wasn’t worried about meeting him on an isolated road in the country. If he thought he could get away with killing me he would’ve done it years ago.
Tomorrow: Junior
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