26
Saturday evening.
Meshach circled the room, past the sofa and chair, into the kitchen, and around the island and back. Twenty-seven paces, over and over he made the loop. He carried the .45, first in one hand then the other. Reminded him of the leopard he’d seen at the zoo when he was a kid. Back and forth the cat paced across the front of the cage. Huge claws rasped the concrete floor every time the animal pivoted. Its long tail twitched and its golden eyes threw darts at the staring faces but never fixed upon any one thing or person. He’d told his mom he wished he could open the door to the cage. She thought he wanted to set the animal free, to send the big cat back to the jungle. She’d been partially correct. He did want to let it out, but so he could see what the claws would do to human flesh.
The woman doted and bragged about her son who could do no wrong. In the end, the disappointment she felt was the product of her own blindness. He knew who he was. One couldn’t make good from bad. The ingredients just weren’t there.
He’d been cooped up in the house twenty-four hours, biding his time. No news about the operation. He was stuck on pause, and he didn’t like it.
He stopped in front of the French doors. They stood open. All of the doors and windows were open. His boat sat in front of him, the open ocean just beyond that. His car was parked not far away. He wasn’t caged, not yet. So why couldn’t he escape?
Shanteel…he should have left her marooned on the platform the day he met her. The cop would never admit it, but that would have done him a favor as well.
His phone rang and he stepped to the island to glance at the number. Again! He stared at it. After six rings the caller would be connected to a voice mailbox that wasn’t set up. It went silent but rang again within thirty seconds. He snatched it up. “What in the—”
“You did something stupid. What was it? You’re blown.”
“I’m not blown.”
Lamech took a deep breath. “Now, you’re the one who’s not listening. Have I not yet proven the extent of my connections? The warning about those at the Hilton, your car, the cash, the weapon, and your very handsome deposit were not enough? Somehow, a PI has figured you out, and he’s talking. We’re done. You’re a liability. The job is cancelled.”
The looker with the blue eyes flashed in his mind. The jarhead seated across from her in the hotel restaurant as she’d patted his hand in a way that said, “good boy.” Not lovers then, but now? “You can’t cancel. We have a deal.”
“That’s funny. There’s no honor among thieves, or have you never heard that quote before?”
Meshach suppressed the urge to unload the .45 into the ceiling.
“Meshach, or whomever you are, for some reason I felt the need to warn you. So maybe there is one thread of loyalty among us. I’d tell you to run, but I don’t think any sense of self-preservation exists in you. I feel one day soon I’ll read of your demise in the morning paper and not even recognize that it’s you. Good-bye.”
“Wait! Wait!” Meshach yelled into the phone. The connection remained open but silent. “A name. Give me a name and location.” The lull lasted a minute.
“Hansen, Wes Hansen. The Days Inn in Mandeville.”
And so the game would continue, advantage Meshach.
“Lamech. Now you listen to me. Watch the papers and the news. After I’m finished with the PI, I’m going to do your job pro bono.”
He hurled the phone against the wall.
~*~
Sunday morning
The hotel advertised continental breakfast as a selling point. Whatever that meant. One thing was for sure: it had nothing to do with home-cooked or fresh. Honey buns, muffins, donuts, packaged waffles and sugary cereal lined the counter. As soon as Wes’s crew got up, he’d let them sample the fare at the Broken Egg.
He poured a cup of coffee and took a seat at a table with the Sunday paper and his legal pad. He had a lot of info to give the FBI, none of which would convict Meshach of jaywalking in a court of law.
Jess walked in, dressed for a jog. “Good morning.” She twisted the top off a bottle of water.
“Good morning. You’re up early. It’s barely five thirty, and you’re off for a run already. I don’t see how you do it.”
“It’s easy for me.” She raked her hair back into a ponytail with her fingers and put on a band to hold it. “Starts my day off right. Makes me feel better if I run early. Wakes me up and gets the motor running.”
“I guess,” he said. “To each his own, or her own.” He rolled his eyes at her and smiled.
She pulled out a chair and sat. “So, you don’t see the draw?”
“I do not. The Marine Corps cured any desire I might have once held for running before noon. Though, I don’t ever remember having the desire, so maybe it wasn’t there to start with.” Wes indicated her colorful shoes. “Looks like you wandered off the beaten path into the mud.”
She looked at her feet. “I went for a walk last night after we got back and stepped into a hole up the street, in that area of road construction. The mud is bright red and sticky. I should have washed it off when it was still wet. I forgot.” She took a sip of water. “Well, we have a meeting this morning. What would you like me to do?”
“Attend, all of us. It would help if we could contact Liz and get a name beforehand. After the meeting, we’ll have to see. I think we’re winding down. Unless Cole wants me to continue, and frankly, I don’t see the point. This is a job for law enforcement.”
She nodded and shifted in her chair. “Nevada is Pacific time. I’ll try Liz again at eight her time, ten ours.” She stood. “Well, OK then. I’m going to make this quick so I can be ready when you are. Again, I really enjoyed your friends. I like Rae. She’s a talker, but at least, you know where she stands. I’m glad you and Bubba could talk. I was very happy to hear what he had to say.”
“Yeah, me too.” Wes watched her a moment. As she turned away, he said, “Jess, one minute.”
She faced him and locked onto him with her bluebonnet stare. “Yes, sir?”
He took a deep breath. “If this meeting doesn’t drag out, would you like to have dinner with me tonight? Just you and me?” He found himself wringing his hands and fidgeting like a kid.
Her gaze remained. He had hope in the light he saw there, but she was taking a long time to answer. “Are you asking me out, Wes? Like on a date?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am.”
“I’m sorry, but I have a rule about dating my boss. Too complicated. As they say, I’ve got the T-shirt.”
“Well,” Wes said. “I’m just the man who can fix that.”
“You are? How?”
“You’re fired.”
She held out her fist for him to tap and smiled. “Perfect. ’Bout seven then?” She turned and exited through the sliding glass doors.
She was killing him. He wanted to chase her. What a girl.
He jerked his thoughts back to business and sent Cole a quick e-mail update. The main topic: the leak did not originate with Bubba.
Tony strolled in from down the hall. “Morning, boss,” he said and pulled out a chair. He grimaced as he eased himself down on the seat.
“What’s the matter with you this morning?”
“That little Frankie kid just about killed me. I’m so sore from riding the four-wheeler I can hardly move. I’ve had leg cramps all night.”
“Fun though, eh?”
“Loved it. I’m going to buy one. Seen Jess? She out for a run already?”
“She is.” Wes glanced at his watch. “She’s been gone five minutes. She said she was going to make it fast.” He wondered what fast meant to her. “We’ll go out for breakfast when she gets back.”
Tony shook his head. “Running for five minutes would seem like an eternity to me. I don’t see how she does it.”
“Nor I. What’s the news? Anything from Meshach?”
“Not a peep out of him. Nothing. Eerily quiet. Do you think he’s gone?”
Wes thought about the question a second. “It’s been my experience that once a plan is in place and a tee time is set, the team goes dark, radio silent.”
“That’s scary. I hope we can contact Liz this morning and that there’s a name on the back of that pic. What time’s our meeting?”
“Bubba said before noon, but I’m sure I won’t hear from him for a bit. Most people with any sort of normal lifestyle are in bed asleep this time Sunday morning.”
“You’re saying we’re not normal? Huh, I think I just answered my own question with the question.” Tony pulled at the hem of his hoodie. “Could I have the car keys? I left my phone charger in the backseat.”
Wes slid the key fob across the table. “Let’s go over some of this info when you get back.”
“I’ll only be a minute.” Tony pushed out of the chair and limped toward the door.
The legal pad held twenty pages of notes. Wes scanned them one by one. Did he really need to rehash everything again? The pad held all he had to offer. The FBI was going to think he was a doozy with this stack of evidence.
Tony entered, moving like he’d found a new set of legs. “Has Jess come in?”
“No, why?”
Tony flipped a business card on the table, then turned toward the corridor, moving like Wes had never seen before. “I found that under the wiper blade on the car. I’ll check her room. Then we have to make a round in the car.”
The business card lay face up on the tabletop. The orb stared at him.