Bye-bye, bye week

     The bye week is over, the Huskers moved up in the polls, and the crew went 11-2 for the week. Poor Lloyd is really taking a beating, he is responsible for the 2 losses and Grandma keeps calling his iphone and recommending hobbies that he might like to pursue instead of picking college football games; like scrap-booking, or performance art, or English Premier League soccer.

     Get a couple of celebratory drinks in Grandma and she just gets mean.
     Lloyd and I went to see the Preacherman, in order to ask a favor, and to start getting amped up for the second half of the season, which rolls out with a game at Minnesota. More Husker fans will travel in order to go to the Mall of America than will actually attend the game with the Golden Rodents, but the Minneapolis Chamber of Commerce thanks you, anyway.
     We needed to find out about our mystery date, who was proving to be amusingly persistent. It was obvious he wasn't a pro, and seemed to be working alone. If another investigator wanted to have a chat, professional courtesy demands a meeting at a neutral site, with seconds, and plenty of drinks. Try to make these informal chats last at least an hour. Lawyers aren't the only ones that use "Billable Hours".
     We met Preacherman outside his store-front church. I  made an offering to the "Shining Path Foundation" can on the card table outside his door and wondered if he knew the Shining Path was a Peruvian Maoist guerrilla army. I doubted it, and I doubted if most of the donors knew it either. I also wondered if the Shining Path would ever do anything about Preacherman scamming in their name, but I doubted if they would ever find out.
     "Good morning, Preach," I called out to him. "I come to ask a favor of you and your...network."
     "I don't know how good of a morning it is, if you're turning up asking favors," he relied with a big smile on his face but not in his voice.
     "Oh, come on. We're not in competition, and I showed you remarkable hospitality the last time we hung out."
     "True." His civility was returning a bit.
     "I'm only asking for a favor. Not making a demand, and not asking you to do anything that would raise your profile any. Plus, it's a classic."
     Preacherman sat down heavily on his camp stool. "Go on."
     Lloyd produced a picture of our mystery date and showed it to Preacherman.
     This is the guy. We need to know who he is, but I don't want to go all Olivia Newton-John on him.
Preacherman looked confused.
     "Physical," Lloyd piped in.
     "Just how do you want to do it?" Preach asked.
     "Spiritual healing. Casting out of demons, and such."
     "I haven't done that one in a looooong time."
     "I know. Time to dust it off. Plus I'm going to play upon good old human greed to get him into the next phase, and I need one of your delivery boys to make the drop."
     "What's in it for me?"
     Ahh, he's hooked, I just need to reel him in. "Preach. Buddy. I asked for a favor. You don't have to do anything. I can do this on my own, but it would be a lot less fun, and a lot less interesting. Just be ready for some demon casting tomorrow afternoon."
     "Mmm-hmm. and what do I do when the fuzz shows up?"
     "No cops, man. Mystery Date will have his property returned to him before the paperwork gets filed. That's why we need a delivery boy. Pick one who looks the most innocent, he's going to be a special envoy. It'll be cool. I'll make it worth his while."
Preacherman sat and thought about it. I stood with my hands in my pockets, waiting for the inevitable yes. Lloyd checked his iphone.
     "OK," Preacherman said. "I'll do it, but if one cop shows up at my door, we're done."
     "No worries and understood. Tomorrow, just after lunch. I'll call before we head over. Look for Cassandra and I. Mystery Date will be following along, I'm sure."
     "Tomorrow. The power of Christ will compel the evil spirits to vacate his weak, frail shell of a human for the glory of God in the name of Jesus Christ!"
     "Amen," Lloyd said, not looking up from his phone.
I nodded. "Save it for tomorrow, Preach."
     As Lloyd and I walked back to the car, Lloyd asked for clarification. "Just what are we doing?"
     "Cassandra and I will troll Mystery Date past Preacherman's church. Preach will launch into his spiel about healing the spirit and all, and while he is 'laying on hands' he will lift mystery dates wallet. One of his delivery boys will take it inside. Photograph the id with a digital camera, add a couple twenties  and a business card for 'Our Lady' and head out the back."
     "Why won't he notice his wallet missing?"
     "Cassandra and I will zip around the corner and into the back door once Preacherman starts his schtick. Mystery Date will get agitated and push past to get around the corner and will then realize he lost us. He'll get mad, start thinking about his next move, and will habitually check for his wallet. He'll notice it's gone, assume that he got ripped off, rightly so, and head back to confront Preacherman."
     "Go on," Lloyd said, starting to see it all come together.
     "He'll lay into Preacherman, threaten to call the cops, and have a tizzy, when a kid comes up to him holding his wallet, saying 'Excuse me sir, you dropped this.' When Mystery Date snaps open the wallet to check it's contents, he'll see that A. Nothing is missing, and B. There is more money. And C a Business card. He'll be hooked, taken in by the money, he'll know we're onto him and his curiosity will have him calling the number on the card."
     "So we'll be rewarding him?"
     "Not at all. We'll have his i.d., and the initiative. We'll be on top. Get in," I said, pointing to the car.
     "I want tacos," Lloyd said.
     Tacos sounded good.
Husk-husk and on the QB.