Stuff to Spy For Read Online Free PDF Page B

but who knew? The guy might be legit, he might be a fake.
    “Michael, I’ll have him here tomorrow morning. You’ll be in till noon?” He had a habit of scooting by eleven thirty. You’d never see him the rest of the day.
    “Um, yeah. You get him here no later than noon, okay?”
    “Sure.”
    I didn’t know what time he woke up, but I was going to pound on Jim Jobs’s door tonight until he finally answered. There was no way this job was going to get away from me because of amissing supervisor. I didn’t know Jim Jobs well, but for what this position called for, anyone could do it.
    Hell, I’d hired James hadn’t I?

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Sure, I should have contacted someone I knew. This was a job that was paying me a fortune, and I should have approached it with a little more responsibility. However, in my defense, I am not a responsible person. In my short life, I’ve come to accept that fact. I think I’m stuck in an immature, irresponsible lifestyle, and I have to be content with that. As it turned out, I wish I’d looked elsewhere.
    I knocked three times, and finally he opened the door.
    “Huh?” Spoken like someone who had just been wakened from a deep sleep. At two in the afternoon.
    “Jim Jobs?”
    “Huh?”
    “I’m sorry. I’m Skip Moore, two doors down? Apartment 12 E?”
    He just stared at me, scratching himself through the white Hanes Jockeys.
    “You do odd jobs, am I right?”
    He seemed to be a little more clear. “I do.” His thick head of hair was spiked all over his small head and his face sported atwo-day, three-day, maybe a four-day growth. Various shades of brown and gray.
    “Well, I’ve got an odd job.”
    He squinted, scratched himself again, and nodded. “Can you give me just a minute? I think I need to make myself presentable, this bein’ a business deal and all.”
    “Sure.”
    He came back a minute later, dirty T-shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. The shirt was gray, but appeared to have been white originally. I was relieved that he’d dressed, until he scratched himself again.
    “People usually call me on the phone.”
    I could understand why.
    “In fact,” he now scratched his chin, “this is the first time anybody ever came to my door asking about a job.”
    I thought about using the phone the next time I wanted to contact him.
    “What is this job?”
    I noticed he’d used water to try and smooth down the unruly hair. He hadn’t been successful. “Different than anything you’ve done before.”
    “I’ve done a lot of jobs.”
    “Trust me, Jim. It is Jim, right?”
    Jim Jobs shook his head back and forth. “No. Name’s Albert. Albert Jobs. But you can call me Jim. Everyone does.”
    I considered going somewhere else for my hire.
    “Now, what is this job?”
    Get it out of the way. Bust his chops and move on to someone who would be good at it. “It’s this way, Albert … Jim. I need someone for just a week who can work in security. We’re installing a system for a company, and this position would be for someone who runs information back and forth between theinstallation teams.” It was complicated, and I really didn’t want to get into the details.
    “I used to work for two companies that do exactly that.” Jim Jobs smiled at me, two front teeth totally missing.
    “Do exactly what?”
    “Install security systems. And I helped set the whole thing up. Worked with the crew, told them where to install motion detectors, sound detectors—”
    “You did this?”
    “I did. Is that why you’re calling on me?”
    I had no choice. I gave Albert the job.
    “You did what?”
    “Em, you have no idea what it’s like to live without any money.”
    “Oh, jeez, Skip. Don’t start with that.”
    “Then where do I start? This job is going to pay me more than I made all of last year, Em. It’s not like I’m sleeping with her.” Although if I had enough money—
    She shook her head and bit into another bite of cornbread. We were lunching at Esther’s, on