part0062

H e’d had most of the night to deal with Chance. Thanks to Anja’s ability to dig into the man’s past—and find all kinds of nastiness there—and feed all the relevant information into Anderson’s ear, he was able to intimidate his captive without having to resort to violence. He wasn’t sure who, but someone out there had to admire his restraint. Leaving Savage behind to deal with what had to be the harder of the two challenges hadn’t been flattering for his ego, but sometimes, you had to take a hit for the team.

In all honesty, from what Anja told him about what was registered for Savage when he was locked up, his operative had taken a hit for the team too.

The ex-colonel parked the company car in front of the police station and exited hurriedly. Bail had already been posted and he was simply there to pick the man up. Spending the night in a holding cell couldn’t be a comfortable situation, he thought, and he had to be aching to get out, right?

He entered the station and displayed the barcodes to indicated that the bail had already been posted. The officer allowed him into the back where the cells were.

Surprisingly, the prisoner certainly wasn’t chewing through the bars to get out. In fact, it looked like he was still sleeping it off. The officer tapped the bars noisily to wake him and he scrambled off the narrow bed almost before his eyes had opened.

“Oh…fuck me,” Savage growled as he shook his head and clutched his side. He appeared to regret his precipitous action.

“I’m sure there’s a line starting outside.” Anderson chuckled as the cell door was opened to allow Savage out. “You look like shit.”

And that, unfortunately, was an impressive truth. The whole right side of the man’s face was swollen and splashed with bright red and dull purples. Ice would bring the swelling down, but Anderson had the feeling that his face was the least of the man’s worries. Anja had shared the medical report that revealed a couple of bruised ribs, another possibly cracked, and a concussion as well as bruises and lesions across his knuckles and elbows.

“You should see the other guy,” Savage retorted. He still held his left side tenderly as he stepped out of the cell and scowled at the attending officer.

“I did.” He patted the man on the shoulder and ignored the involuntary wince the gesture caused. “Concussion, broken cheekbone, broken nose, and a twisted wrist. A couple of lesions and bruises on his face.”

“That’s… not very inspiring although it sounds about right. Between you and me, it was a fairly one-sided fight. I was lucky the cops showed up when they did. Did you see the size of that motherfucker?”

“I did,” Anderson said. “And you should know that…well, it won’t stay between you and me.” He tapped his right ear.

“I turned it off,” Anja said in Anderson’s ear. “For all they know, it’s only a Bluetooth earpiece. You’ll get it back on the way out.”

The ex-colonel relayed the message to Savage, who still looked like he could use more medical attention. The hacker had told him on the ride over that some first aid had been applied to his injuries after he’d been written up, but it was very unlikely that it would be enough.

“I need to have a chat with the sheriff,” Anderson said. “Courtney said she had the corporate lawyers give him a call earlier today to let him know that you would be released and no charges would be pressed, either by the bar or the giant you fought with. Not that it really matters, but the bartender said that the colossus started it anyway.”

“So do I.” He patted the other man on the shoulder and dragged another groan of annoyance and pain from him. “I’ll fill you in on the details later when we’re not in a police station.”

The two men stepped into the local sheriff’s office. The man in question obviously had nothing against playing to every stereotype possible, having a Colt Army in a frame above his desk, a Stetson hanging from the hat rack, and every kind of cowboy paraphernalia Anderson could think of. These included but weren’t limited to a selection of horseshoes hung over the door, a bullwhip, and pictures of the man himself atop various horses and bulls.

It was a cultural thing, he thought. It had to be. He didn’t judge, of course, but it still felt more than a little cheesy to him.

In Sheriff Francis’ defense, despite the greying hair, the man had the leathery skin and lean build of a man who spent his days off working hard on his ranch when he could. He looked like he genuinely enjoyed the lifestyle and there was nothing bad about that.

“Mr. Anderson, I presume?” Francis asked as he pushed from his seat and shook hands, dutifully ignoring Savage. “I’m sorry for making you come out here like this, but we like to make sure all our bases are covered. We can’t simply release the brawlers without some kind of assurance that they won’t do the same thing again, you understand.”

“Of course. Although I’m sure you understood from that interview you told me about that my man Jeremiah here wasn’t the one who started the brawl.”

“Oh, no doubts about that, with other witness accounts coming in with a couple of Internet videos making the rounds,” Francis replied and chuckled. “I actually had a look at one of the better ones. Your boy here knows his way around his fists.

“I don’t doubt that, but at the same time, we need to keep the peace. And it’s like our mothers told us, it takes two to fight.” The man nodded emphatically like he’d imparted an untarnished pearl of wisdom.

“I appreciate you letting him out this soon,” Anderson said, anxious to move the process forward. “Even with all things considered. I think you’ll be notified by the people at the bar that they were monetized for all the damages, including the possible revenue from yesterday and today to be sure. They said they won’t press charges. Everything was done on paper, too—very open and official. Pegasus doesn’t take well to having employees look bad, even if they are outside contractors.”

The sheriff leaned back against the front of his desk before he moved a little to speak in a conspiratorial tone. “You know, between the two—three—of us, I’m not a fan of holding bar brawlers. Of course, they have to pay up, but most of the guys I lock up for throwing fists merely need to let off some steam. In all honesty, with all the gang violence seeping out from the city into our little county here, I’d prefer to leave the holding cells open. Things are getting worse around here, I’ll have you know.”

Anderson nodded and looked appropriately concerned. “Well, I’ll make sure not to take up any more of your time with this business. I can assure you that you won’t hear another peep from Jeremiah.”

“How long do you think you’ll plan to hold the bigger man since he’s the one who’s actually open to criminal charges?” he asked and tried to frame it as simple curiosity.

“Oh, him?” Francis asked. “His bail was posted before he was even admitted into one of our cells. It looks like he has friends in high places around here too, and someone was in a hurry to get him out. He can’t leave town, though, since there will be charges pressed against him by the local state attorney. It’ll only be a misdemeanor, of course. A small fine and maybe a couple of weeks in the slammer.”

“Right.” The ex-colonel straightened and assumed a more businesslike demeanor. “Look, we’ll get out of your hair, Sheriff. Again, I appreciate your understanding in this matter.”

“Any time, Mr. Anderson.” The men shook hands quickly. “But make sure this one stays out of his cups and in a peaceful state of mind, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, Sheriff, loud and clear.” He nudged Savage to exit the room first and they moved quickly to the counter to finalize his release.

“What’d you guys pay him?” the operative asked after they’d stopped to collect his personal effects. “There’s no way a straight-shooter like that lets a couple of brawlers out of jail without some serious palm-greasing.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Mr. Savage,” Anderson said and managed a suitable degree of indignant outrage. “In other, completely unrelated news, Sheriff Francis is running for State Senate next month. While he lacked a little in campaign funds, the shortfall has since been rectified by a handful of very generous anonymous donations.”

“God bless democracy and the legal forms of bribery that come with it.” Savage chuckled and shook his head, a slightly disbelieving gesture he maintained until they were out of the building and headed to where Anderson had parked the company car. “Anyway, now that the only listening ears are halfway across the world…” He paused to put his earpiece in. “Hi, Anja. Now that we’re alone, how about you share what Dr. Chance told you last night?”

“Yeah, Anderson filled me in.” He turned to his boss as the former colonel slipped into the driver’s seat. The man paused and waited for him to groan and moan as he eased himself gingerly into the passenger seat.

“Well, with some help from Anja, I was able to have a nice chat with Dr. Chance during your night in the slammer,” the ex-colonel said and handed Savage’s weapon back to him before starting the car. “He doesn’t appear to be very deep in this. She uncovered a couple of instances of very…interesting spending on his part over the past few years, way beyond his means. It stands to reason that the most terrifying thing in this country is pissing the IRS off.”

“Right. Anyway, he was very happy to share the details once I’d uncovered his dark secrets. Well, Anja uncovered them, of course. I merely displayed them. He went through the common lines of ‘I don’t know anything’ and ‘I’m not the one you want.’”

“More cliché than ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ and ‘I think we should see other people,” Anja snarked. “It’s like, come on, we know you are bad guys. They could at least put some effort and creativity into their excuses.”

“Do you need to have that checked?” the ex-colonel asked. He could make all the Army jokes he wanted, but that didn’t take away from the fact that his companion was a tough guy, to a fault. He would absorb as much pain as he thought he could and treat himself afterward. He wouldn’t complain, but if he winced and doubled over thanks to his ribs hurting at the wrong time, they were both dead men.

“That depends on what we learned from our friend Chance, doesn’t it?” he asked and glared at him like he had a bead on what his boss thought and didn’t approve.

“He said he wasn’t told anything directly and has always dealt with your big friend each time he needed face-time with his handlers. He called him Mr. Kelly, although I’m sure that’s a fake name. Anyway, he said he managed to do some digging into what happened to the items he’d managed to sneak out of the building, and all he could track down was a name—Charles.”

“Which makes it the second time we’ve heard about someone called Charles being behind this whole thing,” Savage replied. “I think I need to find this Charles Stafford and have a talk to him.”

“You’ll have the opportunity when we’re ready,” his boss assured him. “Chance also mentioned that most of his deliveries were done personally and he was consistently directed to a little bar in New Orleans. He always dealt with the same person, although no names were exchanged. Our man would take days off to visit the city every few months, drop a couple of the items off, and get paid.”

Anderson nodded in response. “Chocolate for the smart kid. So, since there’s no real schedule on looking at the bar, how do you feel about getting medical attention?”

The man shook his head. “I should probably have it checked out, I agree, but we can do it in New Orleans. That way, even if I need to be out of action for a couple of days, I can still make myself useful by scanning the place or something. Does that sound all right to you, or will you hover over me like a mama hawk?”

“Sue me for wanting to make sure the grunt covering my back isn’t whining and groaning instead of actually doing what he’s paid to do,” Anderson snapped but with a grin that took the sting from the words.

Savage opened his mouth but seemed to lack an appropriate response and quickly shut it again. The minutes slid by in silence while the two men drove through the barren wilderness outside the metro area of Houston. A couple of businesses thrived here and there in the open spaces. He finally leaned back and laughed.

“Of the three destinations we’ll visit, two are Vegas and New Orleans.” He shook his head with a rueful chuckle. “I’m not saying Courtney will think you’re taking a vacation since she knows better, but the rest of the board will probably want to look at your receipts.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Anderson replied. “Most of the hinky financial stuff I’ve done has been pulled out of untraceable petty cash.”

“That’s adorable.” Anja laughed. “But seriously, I’ve been careful to make sure you two are covered financially from the board’s perspective on Courtney’s orders. It’s more work than I think you two are really worth financially, but what can I say? You tickle me in a nice place.”