Bob took the paper from the windshield. He unfolded the top half as he sat down.
“What’s that?” said Mokoto. She was in the backseat now, fidgeting with her cell phone.
“It’s just a note from the landlord warning us not to park here again.” Bob wasn’t lying. The note was a messily written scribe from Mr. Pryblinski. Written on the top fold was:
Bob and Phil!
I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, don’t park in Jer’s spot! Do it again and I will have your car towed.
Geoff
Bob handed the note to Phil. “File this with the rest, would ya.” Phil took the note and dropped it on the floor. He snugged up his seat belt, and Bob did the same. Mokoto unbuttoned a few buttons on her jacket, and she tucked her gun inside. “So, where did you park?” Bob asked, as he adjusted his rear view mirror to keep a better eye on her.
Mokoto took her sunglasses out and switched them with her other glasses. “Take a right and go two blocks. I parked in the visitor parking of another apartment complex.”
Phil opened the glove box, and pulled out a pack of Orangemint Orbit gum. “Gum anyone?” Bob glared at him. How can you be offering gum at a time like this he thought. Mokoto took a stick from the pack, and she began unfolding the wrapper very slowly.
“Thank you. This is my favorite.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you think offering me gum is going to stop me from shooting you if I need to?”
Phil froze. He tried to find a response, any response at all, but nothing came to mind. How the hell do I answer that? Mokoto just popped the gum into her mouth, and she began folding the wrapper. “I…I just thought…I mean…you see…it…it seemed polite.” Phil stammered out. Smooth one Phil. You’ll be taking Bond’s job in no time with lines like that he thought to himself. He closed his eyes slightly, almost expecting Mokoto to shoot him for no reason other than a truly lame response.
“Relax, would you? If I find what I’m looking for, I’ll take it and leave. If I don’t, I’ll just take off and we’ll pretend nothing happened.” Mokoto kept folding the gum wrapper, turning it over in her hands, and her face was a look of determination.
Bob cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, is this the right apartment lot?”
Mokoto glanced up. “That’s the one. Pull into the spot by the Kawasaki.”
Bob flipped the turn signal on, and guided his Pontiac into the spot right by a black motorcycle. Mokoto leaned forward, and placed a tiny origami butterfly on the dash. “I need to make a call, so just wait a moment. When I rev my bike, that’s your cue to lead the way, got it?” The two men nodded, and Mokoto got out of the car. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through her contacts.
Phil and Bob sat back in their seats, finally having a moment to soak in the last several minutes of their seemingly ruined weekend. Phil looked at the floor, then picked up the note from Mr. Pryblinski. “Hey, doesn’t Pryb usually just fold over the paper once?”
“Yeah, why?”
“This note has a threefold.” Phil unfolded the bottom fold. The writing here was much neater, and in a different colored ink:
GUYS-
SHE WILL KILL YOU WHETHER YOU HAVE WHAT SHE WANTS OR NOT.
GET OUT OF TOWN FAST.
GEOFF
With now shaky hands, Phil passed the note back to Bob.
