Page 13 of In the Nick of Time
“Sorry, this car doesn’t have a lot of pick up and go. I usually toss a prayer to the patron saint of Pontiacs.”
The patron saint of Pontiacs had taken one look at this car and tossed in the towel.
“You’re the one who insisted on taking your car,” Doug ground out, not loosening his death grip on the steering wheel. He wondered if his molars were going to survive Agent Sedgewick and this drive.
“I like my car. Your car looks like it would be uncomfortable even for clowns.”
Sedgewick wasn’t wrong. Doug had bought the thing thinking he was being environmentally friendly. Currently, he wanted to trade it in for a huge 4x4. With a V-8 engine.
The semi on the right merged onto the exit lane and departed the highway. Doug breathed a small sigh of relief.
“Back to this article. I found quite a few of them actually. I’m surprised you didn’t research all this before you bought your property in nowhere-land. According to the Canadian Medical Society, lonely seniors are more likely to suffer from dementia. I already noted your memory issues yesterday. You know, I’m not convinced this is a good plan on your part.”
Doug tuned Sedgewick’s voice out. Or did his best to. He was actually tempted to turn the radio on even if it meant listening to Sedgewick’s questionable music choices—or worse, talk radio. He hated talk radio.
“Oh, wow, here they say some symptoms are having headaches, feeling ill, having pains, feeling tired, having sleep problems, or lacking motivation. Also, depression, feeling anxious, having panic attacks, or feeling paranoid.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Doug saw Sedgewick turn and look at him.
“This is serious. I think you should reconsider.”
Driving to Las Vegas normally took Doug about twelve hours, more if he obeyed the speed limit. He pressed his foot against the gas pedal again. He couldn’t guarantee Sedgewick would still be alive in ten hours. Doug focused instead on the two-bedroom suite waiting for them. A door between him and Sedgewick was an excellent idea.
“Starting a gym is a much better idea for you. Keeping all those muscles strong and blood flowing—not blood outside your body, of course. You’d get to be around people and help them. Oh! I know, you could start a gym forold peoplelike yourself! You’d be doing yourself and all senior citizens a favor. Yes, that is a great plan.”
Repressing the smile that threatened to curve his lips, Doug snuck a quick glance over at Sedgewick. Was he for real? How old did he think Doug was? The corner of Sedgewick’s lip twitched upward.
Ass. Narrowing his eyes, Doug refocused on the highway ahead of them.
“Wow,”said Nick, his head swiveling around.
“Never been to Vegas before?”
“Nope.”
“Ah.” Doug didn’t know how to respond, what to say to a Vegas virgin. Vegas was… Vegas. You loved it or hated it. Doug hated it. Rich had talked him into taking a mini vacation there just last year, and the trip had obviously been a test Doug failed. Their last hurrah before the sparkly gigolo.
He turned left, managing to get behind a pink limousine packed with what looked like a bachelorette or wedding party. A heavily made-up young woman was standing up and waving from the moon roof while her friends egged her on.
People thronged the sidewalks. Couples, singles, families. Hawkers with stacks of flyers were shoving them at the people who were passing by.
“Oh, what’s that?”
The first lines ofViva Las Vegashad started to play and spouts of water shot up into the night sky in front of a glitzy building next to them, dancing to the Elvis song.
“The Bellagio fountain.”
“That’s so cool. Are we staying there?”
From the tone of his voice, Sedgewick had just become the most recent fan of the dancing fountain. Even Doug had to admit it was alright.
Doug scoffed at the idea of their employer footing the bill at the Bellagio. “SPAM got us a suite in a hotel a little further down.”
When he reached the end of the Strip, Doug took a right and veered into the parking lot of the address he’d been given.
“This is it.”
This was it?Was SPAM management serious?
