Larry was at his computer.
The box read, “u & i need 2 talk”
“c u soon”
Larry typed in, “Now is not the time. I am not even in the office.” Larry hated instant messenger even more than e-mails. He’d never gotten the hang of condensing words or using letters and numbers to do the trick.
Another message appeared. “liar. ur car is here” Then: “u better b ready 2 spill”
That was when Larry knew who he was talking to.
Drake.
And if he knew anything about Drake, Drake was already here. Probably standing outside his door with his smart phone. His wife had the same one and it even took pictures. He swiveled towards the window and craned his neck to look in the parking lot below. Even five stories high, Drake’s vehicle would be easy to spot.
“Looking for my wheels?”
Larry swore and turned back towards his door.
Drake leaned against the frame.
“Wheels my ass. That’s a tank sitting out there. Whatever you’re getting paid is too much. I can’t even afford to buy one of those.”
“You’re full of it, Larry. And you know I’m worth every penny.”
“What’s going on with Selena?”
“You won’t like it.”
“Screw liking it,” Drake said, eyes narrowed. “The background on Selena.”
“Technically, you’re not even supposed to be on this case. I’ve broken enough rules this month.” Seeing the stubborn set of Drake’s jaw changed his mind. “Aw hell, if I’m going out, I might as well go out with a bang. You can ask three questions. That’s it.”
“What is Selena’s real name?”
That was easy. “Selena Malone.”
“Our side or theirs?”
Larry couldn’t tell him the truth. Her background was taboo. She was his only lead into the family. The Donovans hadn’t placed the connection between Theresa and Selena. What no one knew was the Agency had intended to convince her to finish the job. Or blackmail her back. Larry was glad she had blackmailed him into giving her information on Andrew’s habits. It made the taste in his mouth less bitter.
He knew if Selena ever found out, or Drake, he was a dead man.
“Hers,” Larry said.
Drake’s eyes narrowed to mere slits, his mouth flattened.
“What the hell is she up to?”
“I don’t know. If you want to know ask her,” Larry answered with a smile, glad to have gotten out of firing range.
Drake smiled back. “I will.”
A man shoved past Drake.
Drake stopped cold. “Got a burr about something, Fry?”
Jeremy Fry, right-hand man to Larry’s boss, shot back, “Only if you screw up again, Carpoli. I’ll have you knee-deep in red tape if you don’t take the Donovans down this time. Find the link.”
Drake took a step forward and watched with a smile as Jeremy started to back up. In this business if you backed down from another man, your balls were questioned.
Jeremy leaned against White’s desk.
“So what do you think about the new addition to the Donovan family?” He folded his arms over his chest.
Jeremy’s cell phone rang. As he checked the caller, Drake caught sight of a small tattoo snaking out from Fry’s T-shirt to the back of his neck. It hadn’t been there five months ago when Jeremy had been transferred to this unit.
“Do you mean the leak? He’s a dead man.” To Larry, “Keep baby face in his own crib or he’s going to be growing up real quick.”
Both watched Drake leave the room and faced the window at the same time to view his departure. The Hummer spoke volumes about the man driving: If you want me, here I am.
After thirty minutes of dealing with one huge pain in the ass named Jeremy, Larry drifted back to an earlier conversation. He had no doubts Drake would find out Larry’s part in the monkey wrench that had torn his wedding night to shreds. He just didn’t want to be around when Drake did.
He had another option. Martha had been after him to take a vacation. He picked up the phone. “Dorothea,” he told his assistant, “Get your travel agency on the line.”
• • •
It took all his willpower to snap out of it. Drake kicked off his shoes and was greeted by Lady. He ruffled the top of her head. Lady wagged her tail. She’d wandered in his yard a few weeks ago, matted fur and ribs sticking out. He’d been asleep in his hammock, dreaming about another lady when he found himself face down in the grass. A cold nose nudged his ear. The breed was hard to see under the mud-coat, but the drool wasn’t.
The dog had eyed his forgotten sandwich in the dust. In a matter of seconds, the front of his coat, and the ground, had become wet. Long strands of saliva had hung from each side of the dog’s mouth.
He took the kerchief around Lady’s neck and wiped the saliva from her jowls. Luckily his stomach was iron-clad and had gotten past all the drool. Now her tri-color coat was beautiful and her ribs no longer showed.
“Good girl, Lady,” he said, praising her for sitting still.
And for not snatching his dinner from his hands.
Lady wagged her tail and panted lightly. Seeing he wouldn’t change his mind, she slumped to the floor, gave one last stare and closed her eyes.
The phone rang. Drake glanced at the caller i.d. Larry. They’d just talked — what did he want?
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Listen, Drake, you didn’t stay long enough to hear this, but Jeremy brought news the Donovans are not the eye of the storm. There’s another source. Bigger fish.”
Drake planted a foot on the higher rung of the bar stool, his elbow on the counter. “Do you have a name?”
“No. But there’s something else you should know about your — ”
A door slammed.
Drake had enough surprises to last him a lifetime.
A breathless voice came over the phone. “Larry. Kill. You.” Each word rushed out between gasps. “Plane. Today. Six. Not. Packed. Leave. Now.” Another door slammed.
“Larry, what about — ”
“No time.”
“Larry …” Connection had been severed. Larry style.