“ Cocaine and sex, a powerful combination,” she said.
He pushed himself into a sitting position. “It’s never been that intense for us before,” he said.
“ Darling, would you cut me a couple of lines.”
“ But your rule?”
“ I think I can break it today. What do you think?”
“ Sure.” He hopped off the bed and went to the bureau.
She reached a hand behind herself and snaked it under the pillow while he was tapping out the cocaine. When he looked up she was back in the lotus position, but his eyes were glued to the chrome-plated thirty-eight police special she held in her left hand.
“ Don’t point that thing at me,” he said, stepping back.
“ I give the orders around here,” she said. Whatever happened, their relationship was forever altered.
“ Yes, okay.”
“ Make four lines,” she said.
“ Yes, sure, anything.” His hands were shaking as he tapped more cocaine out onto the small mirror. “Shit,” he said, “too much.”
“ That’s all right. Now divide it up.”
“ All of it? There must be close to a gram here.”
“ Yes,” she said. “All of it.”
He made the lines, licked his finger and tapped it into some of the residue on the mirror and then rubbed it across his gums. She saw his quaking shivers.
“ Do two of the lines,” she said.
He picked up the blue hundred, and made two of the white snakes disappear.
“ I killed the last man who disappointed me. Do you believe that?”
He looked at the steady way she held the gun, as if it was an extension of her left hand, and nodded.
“ Look at my breasts.”
He moved his eyes away from the gun.
“ See how the nipples are hard. See how you make them stand up.” She pinched her left nipple with the thumb and index finger of her right hand. The gun never wavered. “They are very hard. I’m still excited. Do you believe that?”
He nodded.
“ Do the rest of it.”
He hesitated.
“ Do it,” she said and he quickly inhaled the rest of the cocaine. Now he would be flying and too shit scared to lie.
“ This isn’t right,” he said. She knew he was trying to figure out what went wrong, trying to figure out an angle. He was slippery, but tonight he was out of grease. “What’s going on?” he asked, melting under her stare.
“ My bomb went off on the plane.”
“ I was going to tell you about that,” he said.
“ When?”
“ As soon as I got here, but you looked so good in that dress I forgot.”
“ You said that wouldn’t happen.”
“ I was assured,” he said.
“ I don’t want to hear about your assurances. I want my bomb.”
“ I’m sorry,” he said.
“ When they start reconstructing things, they will find the bomb maker and through him, you, and through you, me.”
“ Not a chance,” he said. The man I hired is first rate. He’s a stand up guy, from the IRA. I know him. He’d do the time before he ratted.”
“ At least it wasn’t one of your Middle East terrorist friends. They give up their mothers the second someone shines a light in their eyes.”
“ No, no, he’s IRA, those guys never talk. They won’t find him,” he said.
“ I hope you’re right.”
“ I’m right,” he said, sweating. “Come on, put the gun down.”
“ You stole my cocaine.”
“ Bullshit.”
“ That’s why you stopped by your apartment.”
“ I stopped by to pick up the rum and my neighbor. He followed me over in your surprise. The poor guy had to take a taxi back.”
“ What are you talking about?”
“ Go look out the front door. It should be parked behind my Mercedes by now.”
“ You didn’t,” she said, lowering the gun.
“ I did.” He grinned.
She dropped the gun on the bed, put on her dress, and ran to the front door. “Kevin, it’s gorgeous.”
“ Is the color all right?” It was bright red.
“ It’s great.” She approached the new Porsche convertible.
“ Now say you’re sorry about sticking that cannon in my face,” he said.
“ Oh forget about that,” she said, turning toward him. “And get your clothes on so we can take it for a spin.”
“ About the bomb,” he said ten minutes later as they approached the light before Western Main Road, “do you think that way is wise? You’ve been pretty lucky with a rifle all the other times.”
“ Senator Rowland’s car went off a cliff,” she said.
“ That’s different,” Kevin said. “You were supposed to make that one look like an accident.”
“ I can’t shoot Ram,” she said, downshifting. It was a risk telling him. She hated to show weakness, but he had a right to know why.
“ There’s too much at stake,” he said.
“ I didn’t say I couldn’t kill him. I just can’t shoot him. I’ve tried. I had him lined up with the crosshair between his eyes, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. He’s a friend. Like a wise old uncle. I know him. I like him. I almost admire him. It’s not like the others.”
“ We can’t back out now,” he said.
“ I know that. That’s why I want to use a bomb and a timer. I’ll be long gone. It’ll be out of my hands.”
“ There’s someone here that can do it. I can have you fixed up by tomorrow evening. I didn’t want to use him, because he’s so close to home. But now I guess I don’t have any choice.”
“ Good,” she said. “Then we don’t have a problem.”
Chapter Eight
“ You’re looking fit, Warren,” Broxton said, holding out his hand. The handshake was strong, but not overpowering. Warren Street was a man who was sure of himself and his place in the world.
“ And you. I’d ask about the flight, but I know about that.” The ambassador gestured toward two bamboo style chairs away from his desk. Broxton smiled. The office had a tropical flavor to it, and the bamboo furniture, the parquet floor, the indoor plants and of course the floral prints, all conspired to camouflage the century old oak desk that Warren took everywhere his office happened to be.
“ A bomb,” Broxton said. “Too small to bring down the aircraft, but large enough to poke holes through the sealed baggage compartment and through the plane’s skin. We were lucky. The pilot was great.” He decided not to tell Warren about the accident and the car chase. Warren was a great friend, but he was also a great worrier.
“ Who would do such a thing?”
