Rock Con Roll - Page 34/92

I groaned. Vance was Carl and Franny’s son, who used to sit around playing video games at his parent’s music shop. I heard from Elle that he was married now and had a kid, Roger, who was an aspiring grifter. It was Roger who, along with his grandpa Carl, had brought that panda into the lost-and-found department.

Vance had been a skinny kid, and I could see he hadn’t grown much. Five years older than me, he never socialized with any of us when we were young. All he did was camp out in his corner and play games, offering a sneering frown to anyone who bothered him. We used to call him “Victory Vance” because whenever he won a game, he’d throw his arms in the air and yell, “Victory!”

Naturally, Vance did some cons too, but stories of his screw-ups were legendary. Back when I lived in L.A., Carl and Franny used to give him simple tasks: drive a car, get supplies, load gear. Occasionally, they’d let him appear in a con when they needed someone who looked tough. Vance might have been skinny, but he knew how to scowl.

Everyone liked to tease Vance back then, but I always had a soft spot for him. Underneath that nasty exterior was a sweet kid who just wanted approval. Way, way back, when I was seven years old and Vance was twelve, we played video games together a few times. And although nobody else knew this, Vance was my first kiss. Nothing ever came of it, but I was never afraid of him after that, no matter how mean he pretended to be.

So why was Vance following me? I doubted his parents had sent him out to do it. And Bea used to complain about him all the time, refusing to work with him at all. That made me doubt she had hired him. But I couldn’t deny that many things had changed in the last seven years. Maybe, now that she didn’t have any foster children under her influence, she’d taken on Vance.

When I got to the bank, I waited for Vance to park his car. Then I walked over to him before he could get his newspaper shield up in place. Yep, even with the dark glasses and seven more years of age, this was Vance.

I knocked on the glass, and he gave me his usual scowl. Then he rolled down the window. “What do you want?”

“Hi, Vance. Nice to see you. I was just wondering why you’re following me.”