Kyle picked up his landline and waited for the familiar series of clicks and the dead silence that followed. “Are you there?” he said.
“You’ve been a very bad boy, Kyle.”
“Let me explain...”
“Usually when someone prefaces a statement with ’let me explain,’ they’re going to lie. Are you about to lie to me, Kyle?”
Sweat pasted Kyle’s shirt to his back. “I was just going to say that—” the words trailed off as he gripped the phone so tightly to his ear it hurt. He licked his lips and swallowed at the sandpaper he felt there.
“Licking your lips to lubricate the lie Kyle? You tipped your hand with that silly proposal of yours.” The voice sounded almost aristocratic in its perfect diction. No syllable or words were ever wasted in the exchange.
“You had me followed.” Kyle whined as he looked helplessly around his hotel room.
“Always. Did you think by marrying her it would make me change my mind? You had one job. Just one. You’ll need to hit six-ninety-five soon if you plan to be here on time and you know how much I detest tardiness.”
“I have a meeting with my supervisors in an hour.” Kyle countered looking at his reflection in the mirror above the desk. “I can keep her quiet if I marry her. You’ll see.” Kyle wiped away the tears with the palm of a hand. “All she said was Harlem Jones died years ago in some botched robbery attempt outside of a movie theater. She doesn’t know anything.” He whined.
“There was no robbery Kyle, but pain is a powerful attention getter as you’ll find out once you get here.”
“But I gave you what you wanted. She doesn’t know anything.” Kyle burst into tears and wiped his nose and mouth on his sleeve.
“Your psyche eval came back. You’re as nutty as a shithouse rat, I’m afraid. They’re putting you out to pasture, Endicott—with your gun. I think some around there want you to eat it. Maybe you do, too. No matter. You have a new employer now, don’t you?” the eerie thread of calm in the man’s voice made the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck stand up. “That doesn’t like tardiness. Now come take your medicine like a good little boy.”
Kyle sat back in the chair and let the tears come. “You said I didn’t have to do it anymore.”
“Are you passing that bitter cup to your father? Alzheimer’s is a mercy in some respects. Your father Tony Jakes doesn’t remember paying me to firebomb his competition back in the day; loved the smell of charred remains as I recall. Wonder if he’ll say the same while his nose burns like a candle wick.”
“No, please. He’s an old man.”
“That is what makes your downfall all the more tragic. Not your Dad? Ok.” the mirth in the man’s voice made Kyle cry even harder. “What about your sister and her kids? What’s their pain tolerance. Three or a thousand you’ll do whatever I tell you when I tell you. Three more and then you can rest for a while.”
“But—”
“There is more that I require of you and sniveling is only going to make it worse for your father. Have you spoken to the Winbourne woman?”
“She’s about as old as my father and just as spotty on memory.” Wiping his eyes on a sleeve, Kyle pulled on the blue suit jacket before fixing his tie.
“She’s the only one that knows what happened in the ER that night.”
“You still think the boy survived. I looked through the files at the Witness Protection program. If he survived there would be paper, something connecting him to St. Joe’s, William Daniels or even Willow, his daughter but—”
“Finish her and Willow is yours.’
“Willow won’t have me. Turned down my ring.”
“A little birdie told me about the blood on your ring. That hooker you downed your sorrows in after Willow turned you down makes it clear you already know how to convince a woman of anything. Racine Winbourne has a secret—make her tell it. Then come see me.”