Note to Lola: We’re out of coffee filters and toilet paper makes crap out of my Indonesian blend. Take a few bucks out of the petty cash and get yourself a couple of cigars while you’re at it. You’re a real sweetheart.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, I was about to pick up the ticket when the phone rang. Doug’s phone, not mine. I don’t know why I answered it. Maybe it was the funny ticket on the floor that sparked something in me and made me think something was wrong.

“Doug’s office” was what I started to say. I got as far as the “D..” before a voice on the other end interrupted me.

“Deec Ember,” said the guy, in a thick Italian accent. He sounded like one of the guys Antonio keeps around the back room of his grocery. The ones you don’t need to know what they’re saying to catch their meaning. “You owe me, Deec Ember. I wanna payment now or else I take a visit to that nice wife of yours. Maybe you let me spend an hour or two with her anyway. I’ll take off say, 20 percent? Thatsa real deal Deec Ember, on a bill like yours.”

“Who’s this?” I asked. “Where’s Doug and what does he owe you?” I said as I turned, looking out the back windows, as if the answer was out there.

“You stay out of this business if you know what’sa good for you,” the voice said.

“I can’t do that, pal,” is what I said. “You just threatened my friend and his wife. Now what—”

That’s when I heard the door to our office slam shut. I spun around and all I could see was a boy sprinting out into the street. He was gone in a flash. There was no use going after him. I looked down to where the airplane ticket had been sitting on the floor.

Gone. ****.

I raised the phone back up to my ear and started to say “Listen here,” but it was already dead.