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he struggled to keep his eyes open. He even had to pull over to the side of the road to get a cup of coffee, which wasn’t something Des typically drank.
    Whether he had the coffee to thank or not, Des didn’t fall asleep. He made it, without incident, to his destination. As he was about to pull into the parking lot of the hotel he chose to stay in, he saw a black-on-black Aston Martin complete with oversized rims speeding by. The driver had the music turned up as he passed Des, heading down Broadway, the main drag in town.
    With the exception of the month of August, when the horse races were going on, Saratoga Springs was a real down-low kind of town. During the other eleven months, the town was populated by wealthy people with a lot of old money. Since it was February, that Aston Martin cruising down the strip was out of the ordinary. Des’s gut told him that the car’s owner came from new money, and he strongly believed the car was very likely one of the dots to connect him to his mark, Jarbo. On a hunch, Des followed the Aston Martin. Ten miles later they arrived at a luxurious resort. He laid back, parked, and watched as a female driver exited the car in front of valet parking. She wore a nearly see-through shirt and a small skirt that showed off her long legs. She definitely looked as if she could have been the stripper accompanying Jarbo up here, Des thought.
    “How long will you be?” the valet asked her, trying desperately to keep his eyes focused on her face instead of her double-d chest size. It was amazing what a little wind making its way through a chiffon top could do to a girl’s nipples.
    “Ummm, I’m not sure,” she said, almost as if she were talking to herself. “Maybe I’ll go back out shopping while he goes to the sauna, or maybe I’ll have a massage.” She turned to the valet. “I’m not certain. Keep it close, an outside spot.” She winked, then waited while the valet grabbed the bags out of her car and handed them to her after she surrendered her keys to him.
    “Nice car. How does it ride?” Des asked as he walked around the Aston Martin.
    “It’s actually my boyfriend’s,” she replied, watching Des admire the car. “But I think he really got it for me.” She threw her long hair over her shoulder. “He has plenty of other cars—the Maybach, a Maserati. I drive this one all the time, and, as they say, possession is nine-tenths of the law.” She smiled, but Des acted as if he wasn’t paying her any attention. He stayed focused on the car. “But yeah, I like it.” She nodded. “I like it a lot.”
    “Really?” Des said, pretending to be impressed. “A Maybach, huh? What color Maybach could possibly compete with the color of your eyes?” he asked, laying it on thick, figuring she was the type who would run her mouth after receiving a compliment.
    “Oh, thank you. It’s burgundy,” she announced proudly.
    “The burgundy joint may give you a run for your money. I don’t know,” he teased. “How long has he had this?” He pointed to the Aston Martin.
    “Ummm…” She rolled her eyes upward as if trying hard to find the answer in her airhead. “He had it like nine or ten months, but I’ve been driving it like eight months. Like I said, possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
    “He must really love you to let you drive such an expensive car, huh?” Des assured her, making her feel special.
    “You think?” She smiled, loving what her ears were hearing. “He does tell me that I’m the twinkle of his eye. That’s what he calls me, you know—Twinkle.”
    After she unknowingly confirmed the details that Des needed, Des knew what he had to do. He checked into the hotel under an alias so that he could get a better read on his mark.
    Later that night, Des followed Jarbo and Twinkle to the bar, where he copped a seat nearby so he could keep tabs on them.
    Jarbo’s cell phone rang. “Hold on, baby,” he said to Twinkle as he took the call.
    Des, who was casually