Chapter 8
Scarpo came out of the public phone booth, his face red and perspiring. He wiped a damp handkerchief over his bald head and put his sunglasses back on, then crossed the sidewalk and went into the air-conditioned restaurant where Geech was already having breakfast.
Sitting down at the counter beside the slim man, Scarpo said, "Whooo," and tipped up the sunglasses to read the menu.
Geech said, "It's not bad, maybe it sounds crappy, but this grits and sausage with eggs, it's not bad. What'd they say up north?"
Scarpo looked up at the girl behind the counter. "Prune juice, corn flakes and milk, coffee after." And, when she went away, he said to Geech, "They found a broad knew her a long time back, knew her family, especially a grandma."
"Corn flakes and milk," Geech said. "You oughta' try these hominy grits and red-eye gravy. What's a grandma got to do with it?"
"Grits," Scarpo said, picking his shirt-front away from his barrel chest and flapping it for extra coolness. "Grits sounds like they got sand in 'em, and red-eye gravy like you drain it out of a car. The grandma come from a little town over in Mississippi, over next door from right here. Shuba. Sounds like something you'd put on them grits. They figure the broad's running for the old lady's home town, because she don't know where else to run to."
The girl brought Scarpo's cereal, and he poured milk over it, sugared the bowl. Geech said, "Hick town, probably no more than one fuzz in it, if that many. A lockup, man, a lockup."
Scarpo waited until the waitress was down the counter, then said, "We find the broads, hit both of 'em after we get the money, and then it's a lockup. Not before."
Geech cleaned his plate and drank a cup of coffee. He glanced often at Scarpo with quick, darting looks, and once his lip curled before he could control it.