A few stops after he picked up Roger, Vic caught sight of a man in a crisply ironed business suit beneath the overhang of a building, talking to himself and waving his hands wildly for the bus to stop. The rain had picked up again, driving the man away from the bus stop sign under cover, and apparently he seemed concerned Vic might miss him. Vic slowed down, eased to a stop at the curb, opened his door, and waited.
And waited.
The man didn’t move from under the overhang. Vic glared out at him, but little good it did—the man was half-turned away from the bus, one hand to his ear, obviously talking into a Bluetooth device. His loud voice carried across the sidewalk on the wind, snatches of conversation Vic wasn’t interested in. “Hey, buddy?” he called, raising his voice. “Sometime today.
