“Oh, that’s no longer an issue, ma’am,” Frost was the first one to regain his composure. He cut a malicious grin at Cutter, “Your business colleague, Mister Hawkins here, appears to have located our quarry.”
“Yes, I’ve heard, Mister Frost.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms just behind the wrists to rest them, one atop the other, on her knee, while the wineglass dangled from the slender fingertips of her right hand. “And I tend to agree with Mister Cutter. I think we should see if our friend Thomas accepts our proposition first. Besides, your fireworks exhibition last night brought way too much attention to this whole ordeal. This is our hometown and our constituency. We’d prefer fewer explosions and bouts of mayhem from here on out.”
“May I remind you, ma’am, I’m on a very tight schedule with very little room for error.” Frost was not at all happy, but he knew it was imperative to remain calm. “With every minute that passes, we run the risk of something going bad. One of my men could figure out what’s going down. McCallister might sniff it out. Who knows? Either way, if that happens, then the whole game is going to change drastically. Not just for me, but everyone here.”
Denton gave a snort of overblown self-importance. “Chastaine wouldn’t dare come after a Federal Senator!”
“Senator, let me assure you, Mister Chastaine does not think in any conventional way.” Frost was beginning to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Denton seemed nothing more than the typical arrogant politician too long insulated from reality. “He has the same regard for the laws of man as he does the laws of nature. He thinks of himself as some kind of demi-god.”
“Pagan heathen!” Denton scowled. “He’s no more a god than you or me.”
“Whatever he may be, he has some very powerful friends.”
“We are all well aware of Mister Chastaine’s far-reaching influence, Mister Frost,” Cherry stepped in, answering for her husband.
“Then you understand the importance of moving swiftly on this.” Frost was beginning to see the woman behind the man. Was this Amazonian blonde beauty the puppeteer behind her husband’s success? Was she the one pulling the strings on all this? If so, he was impressed.
“We understand fully,” she agreed. “But a couple of hours to let this man make up his mind could mean the difference between another fiasco like last night and us all happier and getting what we want without more burning hotels to have to explain.”
“I would think you would want to disappear quietly into oblivion, Mister Frost,” Denton smiled as he began to massage his wife’s back affectionately. “I imagine once Chastaine realizes you’ve double-crossed him and used his money to acquire the vixen for someone else …” He chuckled as he looked to the ceiling, trying to form a picture in his mind. “God, I’d love to see the look on his face.”
“I’d prefer to be far, far away,” Frost saw no amusement in any of it.
“You know he’s gonna hunt you from one end of the System to the other,” Cutter spoke up.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that,” Frost gave him a cold stare.
“Oh, believe me, I won’t lose a second’s sleep.” Cutter’s enjoyment was genuine. “I just find it ironic that you’re fixing to find out what it’s like to live life as the prey instead of the hunter.” His lip curled in a contemptuous sneer. “Couldn’t happen to a better man.”
Cutter could sense actual concern in the man. He wondered if the merc had thoroughly thought this through, or had he, like so many others, made the age-old mistake of allowing the promise of instant riches cloud his judgment in that critical life-changing moment. He’d seen it happen time and again. No man was immune.
It made him curious about the decision Tiger would make. As far as Cutter was concerned, whatever choice he made, it would be the wrong one. If he accepted the deal and sold out the vixen, the gangster would lose all respect for his longtime friend. As much as he hated to admit it, he secretly admired the stubborn bastard. Tiger was the last shred of proof that good still existed in the universe. At least, in this corner of it.
Of course, if he was the Tiger Cutter knew and loved, he would take the vixen and run. That meant Frost and his men would hunt him. That also meant there would be no guarantee Cutter would be able to protect Lulah. Despite his earlier grandstanding, all bets would be off at this point. Good Ol’ Tiger could cause a lot of people a lot of grief in that scenario.
What will you do, Tanner? I know you’ll do what you think is right, but what is right? It’s been so long since I did anything right, I wouldn’t know it if it fucked me in the ass.
“Mister Cutter …” Someone was calling his name. Shaking himself from his momentary ponderings, he looked up to see the group staring at him.
“Mister Cutter!” Cherry was calling his name, a bemused look on her face. “Have we lost you?”
“No,” he replied sheepishly. “Just thinking about someone I used to know.”
“I see.” She shot a look at Frost. “We were wondering if you would make the arrangements for the swap. Assuming you’re confident that your friend will accept our offer.”
“I’m not confident of anything,” he said frankly. “But I’ll get things set up … there’ll be no worries with that, I assure you.” He made no pretense of pleasantries and politeness as Frost had. She would get no ‘ma’am’s’ out of him.
Even though they’d came from similar backgrounds, no doubt, she’d happily spurned hers. All the talk of Christian charity every four years, yet neither she
