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Sitting in a quiet bar, Frank offered a new plan. One that involved holding off for a few days and seeing if Davey came through with the rest of the money. At the pawn shop, where they went next, Frank paid cash for a pair of handcuffs. The hotel was a short drive with Frank behind the wheel of Rodney’ s car.“ How much of the twenty grand have you spent?” Frank asked.“ I spent six bills for the Nine from a hood rat,” Rodney answered.
Inside the hotel room, Frank handed Rodney the handcuff keys, and his cell phone, asking him to scroll through the numbers.“ Call George, and ask for twenty thousand dollars.” Rodney looked suspicious.“ If I’ m not going to work for a couple of days, we are going to need some pocket money and you obviously need the twenty grand Davey gave you. He will be monitoring my credit cards and bank accounts. I can’ t go to the bank, they don’ t deliver and George will,” Frank explained, handcuffing himself to the bed.“ What am I supposed to say?”“ After he asks‘ What the fuck do you want?’ tell him Dave hired you to shoot me and I need twenty thousand dollars to buy you off,” Frank said casually. The response was exactly as Frank described when Rodney dialed the number. The gravely voice on the other end said,“ Shoot that fucking bastard,” after hearing the request, causing Rodney to stare at the phone.“ He told you to shoot me,” Frank said quietly, smiled and then yelled,“ Fuck you George!”“ I’ m on my way. Give me the fucking address,” George laughed into the phone.“ How did you know I wouldn’ t just shoot him?” Rodney asked, after giving the information.“ Because you are using his phone,” George said, as if that explained it all.
Rodney called Dave’ s number next and left a, purposely vague message to the effect that the problem was handled and they should meet at the bar. He would be waiting for a call as to when that meeting would take place. Within the next couple of days was customary. The knock at the door a short while later came from a pretty blond holding a large envelope with the name“ Frank” the address and room number in black felt tipped pen, neatly written on the front.“ I’ m Candy. George asked me to drop this off and to say sorry he couldn’ t join the party, but maybe you could swing by the club later,” she parroted.“ Maybe,” Rodney said, as she handed over the envelope, shrugged and walked away.
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The conversation eventually got around to how Rodney ended up in this spot.“ I knew I recognized you when I saw you tailing me. I just couldn’ t put my finger on where I had seen you. I made some calls. I attended Rice University and went to the football games for a few years after I graduated. You’ re,“ Rocket Rodney!” Hearing the name again after all these years struck a chord deep inside the big man.“ Not after the knee went.”“ How about we get out of this fleabag motel and out of town. Austin is close enough for us to get back in a couple hours, if necessary, and I get to show“ The Rocket” a good time.” Frank said, enthusiastically. Rodney released the cuffs and handed Frank the envelope.
Pulling out two neatly banded bundles of hundred dollar bills, he handed one of them to Rodney. Frank drove out of town so he would not be recognized and the two men quickly became friends. The conversation never lagged as they talked about everything from professors they had in common to popular hang outs they frequented back in the day. And of course how it felt to be on the field with an entire stadium chanting“ ROC-KET” instead of“ DE-FENCE!” The call Rodney expected never came. He drove back to Houston.“ Two stops on the way to your place. May I borrow your phone?” Frank asked.“ Mia I need a massage. I’ m bringing a friend,” he said, after dialing the number. He caught Rodney’ s sideways glance.“ You’ ve been clenching your jaw for the last hour.”“ I hate thieves,” Rodney said. The phone number for Dave had been disconnected.“ You still have the original twenty grand Dave gave you.” It was a statement not a question.