“None of your business. Are you in or should I have someone else collect the $40,000 commission?”
“It’s $40,000? How much does he owe you?”
“Exactly $200,000. He borrowed $150,000. Now the interest is $50,000.” “And you’ve waited this long to collect? Even at your rates, it takes a long time to get the interest up to fifty grand.”
“I thought lending to Grant would lead to business with his friends. You know how many dealings I’ve had with Sanders? Hoped to start with him, work up to Grant and then move around.”
“How’d that work out for you?” Calvin asked dryly.
“Not good. But it was worth the try. Also you don’t push a man as powerful as Grant. I know he’s good for it, but if I put pressure on him, I’d lose him all the way—
The job didn’t make any sense, but it wasn’t up to Calvin to figure out all the whys. His job was simple. He was the collector and the only collector who could pull this task off because of Grant’s status and power. In that sense, Pitt did have a point.
And the extra $40,000 would make taking Rachel with him a lot more affordable.
“I’ll do it. But for a job this tough, I want $10,000 cash up front now. And $30,000 more when I bring you Grant’s money.” When he saw Pitt gearing up to protest, he added, “No one else could do this one and you know it.”
“You want my blood too?” Pitt screamed. “I’ve already paid you the $10,000 I owe you and now you want me to pay you $10,000 more before I get paid? That’s crazy.”
“No. Those are my non-negotiable terms for this last job. Take ‘em or leave ‘em. If you don’t give me the $10,000 now, good luck finding another collector who can get that much from Grant.”
Pitt made strange sounds in the back of his throat and his face reddened. It looked as though he was trying to pull his hair out by the roots.
Calvin chuckled. “I think you’re losing it.”
“I am. And it’s your fault.”
“Yes or no. I’ve got better things to do than stand around waiting for you to decide.”
After a couple of shallow breaths, Pitt said, “I’ll get you another $10,000. But never again.”
“I think that’s the one thing we do agree on.”
Pitt mumbled his way to the back offices for the third time and returned with a fat envelope. “Take it and get out of here. I’ll call when it’s time.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Watters. Right on time as usual.”
“Hey, Chet.” Calvin slung his duffel bag onto the front counter. It landed with a thud.
“What are you using today?” The young man unzipped the bag and rummaged through the contents, pulling out weapons. “SIG P 210-6, Smith & Wesson Model 940, Beretta PX4 Storm, Colt Government and a Browning High-Power. Nice selection.” Chet checked each gun to verify they were unloaded.
Calvin smiled. “Thanks. Just handguns today. Give me two 50-round boxes of nine millimeters.”
“Paper or plastic targets?”
“Paper.”
The man handed Calvin ten pieces of paper of solid black circles with scoring rings on a white background. “Do you have your own eye and ear protection?”
He showed the man his glasses and ear plugs and muffs. He always doubled-up on ear protection to fight the increased noise pressure level inside the shooting range.
“Did you want to renew your annual membership today? Since this is your third year in a row, there’s a discount.”
“Nah,” Calvin said. “I’ll do that another time.”
“You know the regular rules.” The man snickered. “No holster drawing, cowboy action shooting or combat- style shooting.” Chet put his fingers in the form of a gun and imitated a cowboy. “Just sign this waiver and that’s $19.99 for the ammo. You know where the handgun range is. Markus is already down there.”
He signed the waiver, paid, placed his guns and targets back in the bag and left the lobby.
He moved straight to the handgun range and entered the soundproof air-locked corridor. Markus, the head Range Safety Officer, smiled and waved when he saw Calvin. Markus had also been Calvin’s teacher for the concealed-carry license course he had taken when he’d first joined the club.
“Hey, Calvin.”
“Markus.” Calvin nodded.
“We’re hot right now. But in a few minutes you should be good to go.”
Calvin stood back and watched through a Plexiglas window. A row of lanes were occupied and clients fired their weapons at targets, each at a different range length.
The lanes were covered by absorbing foam material on the floors, walls and ceilings for noise reduction. The bullets struck targets and then passed through a rubber curtain before hitting the metal backstop and falling safely into angle-plated collectors.
Markus walked over and stood beside Calvin.
“Are you entering the members’ tournament next month? If you win it for a second year in a row, it’s a free membership.”
He grunted. “I’ll think about it.”
He waited as each shooter, one by one, raised their hand to indicate they were done. When the last person raised his hand, they placed their guns on the firing line table with their actions open.
Markus said, “We’re cold. Go ahead in, Calvin.”
He donned his eye and ear protection and made his way to lane six, dropping his duffel bag on the table. He hung a paper target on the target holder positioned on a slide and hit the electrical switch. The motorized assembly withdrew the target and he stopped it about thirty yards away. He then hit another switch and the lane’s ventilation system started. It would pull smoke and lead particles away from the shooting line to reduce the risk of lead poisoning.
He loaded his Browning High-Power and took aim. His face was a mask of concentration. He steadied the weapon with his right hand, used his left for support and then squeezed the trigger.
Chapter 6
When the phone rang, she felt a chill and checked caller ID before answering. “Hello?”
“Is Ace there yet?”
“No.” Her body trembled as it always did when they spoke. She never knew if it was from excitement or fear. Maybe both.
“When are you expecting him?” His tone was brisk, like always.
“Soon.” She pulled the curtain aside a few inches and watched the back yard. “Most of the time he parks on a side street and comes in through the back.”
“You know what to do?”
“Of course. I’m not an idiot. You’ve told me enough times.”
“Don’t get smart, Linda. You know how important this is.”
She knew not to mess with his hair-trigger temper. But when he got this way, it only excited her more.
She spotted Ace rounding the corner of the house, using his key to unlock the back door. “I see him coming.”
“Good. Don’t let me down. Call me when he leaves. And like always, make it look real.”
“Those acting lessons are coming in handy after all.”
She smiled, but the call was disconnected without a goodbye. She jogged down the hall, stripping off layers of clothing along the way to the back door. She took a deep breath and prepared herself. She sat on the edge of the table, spread her legs and hoisted her feet in the air—showing off her double-jointed, dancer flexibility—as the door opened.
