Page 61 of The Best Trick

Zeus kept walking. He went to where the pool tables were and pointed to the wall of paintings of dogs playing pool. “Which is the best one?”

“Zeus, we can't...” I said.

“People need to learn to respect you. Now, tell me which is the best one?” he commanded.

“Do it, tell us!” Thor cajoled, always interested in a hint of mayhem.

Of course, I knew the best one; it was the bulldog-and-collie one. The bulldog was getting ready to take a shot as a bunch of collies wearing matching green visors looked on, with a German shepherd hoisting a mug of beer.

“I can tell you like this one.” Zeus yanked it off the wall. Maybe it was something about his sense of command, I don't know, but everybody was watching him, and nobody said anything or tried to stop him. He headed out the door into the cool night, out to the parking lot, carrying the giant painting.

“Uber's coming in five minutes,” Odin said, arms crossed.

“What are we going to do with that?” I asked.

“Don't you like it?” Zeus asked.

“Of course I like it, but we can't take something like that with us. Especially if we go on a plane somewhere, which we probably will soon.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Thor said. “Stan owes you, talking to you like that. We’ll enjoy it as long as we have it, even if it’s just for a night.”

“Thank you,” I said, admiring the glowy brushstrokes in the early evening light as we waited for the Uber. Itwasamazing.

“Question,” Zeus said. “Think this through with me.”

“What is butthole spurge?” I asked.

Thor snickered.

I waited. I actually did want somebody to explain it!

“Focus, people,” Zeus said. “Number one, we know that Wilson was getting inside information from the mob somehow and using it to win his bets. Number two, it seemed like his brother was dropping a lot of hints about gambling, like maybe Haroldwantedto turn our attention this way.”

“It did seem like that, didn’t it?” Odin said.

“I agree,” I said. “Haroldwantedus looking this way.”

“So here’s the question, then,” Zeus continued. “If Harold knew about Wilson’s gambling, did he think Wilson was losing like the rest of the world thought? Or did he know that Wilson was quietly winning? In other words, did Harold think his brother was broke, or did he think his brother was rich with a stash of money?”

“And furthermore,” Thor said, “what kind of parent names their kids Wilson and Harold?”

“My head hurts,” I said.

“Guys,” Zeus said. “This is important. Does Harold have motive to steal Doris and free his brother or not? That is the question.”

Our Uber came right then, and we all got in, crowding in the back with the paint-on-velvet picture.

Zeus turned on his phone to a text from Agent Alfred. “Alfred wants to meet at the parking lot again.Now. He says we can ask Wilson some questions.”

“That would be helpful,” I said.

“No doubt,” Thor said. “But if he thinks we’ll meet at that parking lot again, he’s a fool.”

“Right?” Odin said. “Does Agent Alfred think we've gotten lobotomies since we saw him last?”

I supposed itwassuspicious for Alfred to call a surprise meeting, enticing us there with the thing we’d wanted, which he’d previously refused to give us.

We stopped for dinner and my guys put their heads together and studied some satellite images trying to find a better place to meet. We called another Uber to drop us off at a bustling outdoor brewpub called Calamity Joe’s.

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