Underworld Available in October

 The seventh Nick Forte novel, Underworld, drops on or about October 1. In this story, Forte’s ex-wife believe she’s being followed by persons unknown, including when their daughter, Caroline, is in the car. This is unacceptable.

 

Below is an excerpt:

 

We ate an early supper to leave time for a drive to Arlington Heights for the high school football game. Caroline would change into her marching band uniform at school and we’d meet up after the game.

She didn’t say much on the drive north. I got a glimpse of why when she asked if I had a girlfriend.

“Nope.”

“How come? You’re smart and funny.”

Apparently I wasn’t all that good-looking. I guess two out of three ain’t bad. “You have to go out to find a girlfriend.”

“So?”

“I don’t go out much.”

“Why not?”

“You go out, you come across a lot of people you don’t know.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Yeah, but I hate people I don’t know.”

So ended a conversation I didn’t want to have.

We were early to the game, as usual. Diane sometimes referred to me as  “pathologically punctual,” and not as a compliment. Caroline never complained. Fourteen years in and never tired of seeing how parts of me combined with parts of Diane to create a young woman who fascinated me every day. When people asked what my favorite age was for Caroline, I always said, “Now,” and meant it.

I said hello to her friends Tyler and Joanna, reminded Caroline where I’d be after the game, and went to find a good seat. Arlington Heights – Hersey High School, actually – won 26 – 13 in a game that was closer than the score indicated, thanks to the dumbest coaching decision I have ever seen in a sporting event at any level.

Hersey was up 20 – 13 with 56 seconds to play. The visitor – I think it was Schaumberg, but the scoreboard said only VISITOR and I couldn’t hear the PA worth a damn – had the ball on its own 19-yard line. A run and two passes later brought them to fourth down and three yards to go.

They punted. With eleven seconds left in the game. Down seven points.

I have no idea what the coach was thinking, unless he had some secret play to force a fumble on the return. If he did, the play needed work, as Hersey ran the kick back for a touchdown as time expired.

I met up with Caroline and her buds outside the band room. The plan was for me to drive her friends home before Caroline and I made the 45-minute trek to Bolingbrook.

Caroline had a better idea. Even I thought so.

“Can we get ice cream?”

We’d made this improvisation before. “You girls know the drill,” I said to her friends. “Send your mom or dad a text to ask, then show me they said it was okay.”

Apparently they have me pegged as a soft touch; the requests were already approved. Both girls nearly broke my nose shoving cell phones in my face

Sundae School was busy, not packed. I bought sundaes for all three girls – typical, and a primary reason I’m so popular when it comes to giving rides – and a milkshake for myself. I always got milkshakes when I drove, on the off chance we’d have to leave before I was ready. It’s hell to eat a sundae and drive at the same time.

I took my shake far enough away for them to be sure no eavesdropping took place. Tyler’s father got himself busted six months earlier and had yet to redeem his reputation. I maintained a line of sight so they wouldn’t have to find me when it was time to go.

Twenty minutes later two boys/young men I’d noticed sitting in a far corner made a detour on their way out to pass near my charges. No big deal. The boys looked like high school seniors or college freshmen. For all I knew they were friends or relatives of one of the girls.

A couple of minutes later Tyler’s and Joanna’s body language stiffened. Caroline was still cool, but she knew I was close and would handle anything too uncomfortable. The other girls had no such assurance.

These were always awkward situations. My first impulse was to go over and sort these boys out, but the girls needed to learn how to deal with social dilemmas; my best role was safety net. I finished my shake and was watching the situation play out when Caroline peeked over her shoulder in my direction.

I moved with an unhurried stride. Tossed my empty cup in a trash bin on the way over. Took each boy by an elbow to steer them past the girls’ table and toward the door.

This produced the expected reaction.

“Hey! What the fuck, man?”

“Who the hell are you?”

I didn’t speak until we cleared the door. Kept my voice in the register Caroline calls menacing. “I’m conducting a survey and want to ask you a couple of questions.”

These were Arlington Heights toughs, which meant South Side ten-year-olds would steal their lunch money before pantsing them. The taller one said, “You’re not going to like the answers if you don’t turn us loose, asshole.”

“First question: do either of you know what it’s like to eat soup through a straw for…I don’t know. Six to eight weeks? However long it takes a broken jaw to heal.”?”

Not the question they’d expected. “Uh…no.”

“Second and last question: would you like to find out?”

For sure not what they expected. All I got were head shakes.

“Then fuck off.”

And off they fucked.