By Pete Moss
(Click here for Part XVII )
"Good question," says Larry. He takes a sip of his java. He looks at me.'
"What?" I say.
"Now that I've seen both of you...well, there is a clear resemblance. And then there's the name. How many Hollister McElroys could there be?"
"So what's he want, after all these years?"
"He wants to meet."
I look at Dijay. She looks at me. Usually she has something to say, not this time.
"He seems like a nice guy," says Larry.
I look back at Larry.
"I don't know. I'll have to consult with my attorney," I say.
"That's reasonable. Here's the contact information. I will tell your uh...dad I found you but I won't give him your contact info, unless you authorize."
Larry slides another card across the table with his information.
Then Larry talks to Dijay.
"So you're an attorney?" He says.
"Yes I am."
"What field of law?"
"Family," says Dijay. I know she pulled that out of thin air, but she is quick enough to be beleivable. There's something about a woman who can lie so easily.
"If you need an investigator..."
"I'll certainly call you." says Dijay.
Larry stands up. "Well kids, I gotta run. My opinion? Go ahead and call the guy. What have you got to lose. Like I said, he seems like a good guy. Lives on 38th Avenue, in the Sunset."
"38th and what?"
"38th and Lincoln."
"Damn, only 2 blocks from Grannie's house."
"I'm sure there's a rather interesting story." says Larry. "Anyway, I gotta run." Larry picks up his java and walks off.
Dijay and I walk back to where Pete Moss was waiting by the Packard. I'm lost in thought, and Dijay and Pete let me think.
When we get back to Dijay's there's a beat up old Crown Vic parked by the gate.
A fat brown man in a rumpled suit gets out of the Crown Vic.
"Winston Brown." says Dijay. "You still serving papers?"
"Yes I am."
"You know you blew it when you gave up music for that bullshit," says Dijay.
"Compared to what," says Winston. His tone is bored. Obviously he's heard it before and could care less what a renegade like Dijay has to say.
"So why you come around now?" says Dijay. "Lemme guess, you got your guitar in the trunk and you want me to record some song you wrote at 3 in the morning after a few drinks."
"No nothing like that. When I quit music I quit music. Honestly I don't miss it."
"Liar," says Dijay. "So whatchou want?"
"Actually, I'm serving you an eviction."
"Get the fuck out!"
Winston hands Dijay some papers.
"Lemme tell ya, you've had a good run at this spot Dijay. What is it 7 years? But there's some heavyweight folks behind these papers. The attorney handed them over in person, didn't get them from the paralegal this time. Fancy downtown office too."
"What was the attorney's name?" I ask, starting to feel something like dread.
"Susan Jones," says Winston Brown.
(Click here for Part IXX )