His eyes never leave mine. ?I wish I knew.?
?Have you been threatened, Don??
?Not in so many words. But it?s no secret that nobody wants a cash cow to stop making milk.? Logan gets up and gets himself a cup of coffee from a small carafe on a table to his left. ?I thought I was being put through the ringer, but you look pretty rough, brother.?
?I feel worse than I look.?
?You?d better get some sleep.?
?I'm about to. Maybe things will be better when I wake up, huh??
Logan sips his coffee. ?I wouldn'?t count on it. If this were a hurricane, I?d say it hadn'?t even made landfall. Yet.?
I get to my feet and walk slowly toward his door. ?I hope you?re wrong.?
?Any last advice?? Logan asks.
?Think hard about who you assign to this case.?
?Who would you suggest??
?Family men with no history of financial problems or substance abuse. And none with expensive habits.?
He studies me in silence for a while. ?What if they actually turn up some evidence??
?I?d keep it to myself until I talked to the mayor.?
Logan clucks his tongue. ?What about the district attorney??
?Obviously the DA has to be informed. At some point.?
?That sounds like a dangerous game.?
?It has been from the start. We just didn't know we were playing it.?
When I step outside, Caitlin actually gets out and opens my door for me. ?A new black Cadillac Escalade parked in the lot three minutes after you went inside.?
?Where is it now??
?The second you appeared in the entryway, it took off, headed downtown.?
?It didn't pick up anybody or drop someone off??
?No. And it had tinted windows. I couldn'?t see anything.?
Only after I'm in and seated do I notice my open backpack on the floor at my feet. My pistol is lying on the dashboard.
?Good girl.?
?Maybe it was nothing,? she says.
?Don?t think that for a second. You?re in the middle of this now. You?ve been in it ever since you wrote the story on Tim?s death.?
?Should I drive back to the office and get my car??
?No. This van?s blown now. Let?s take the shortest path to your house. I need a bed.?
She pulls out of the lot and turns right, heading toward town through widely spaced pools of sodium-pink light. ?What did Logan want??
?He knows Tim was murdered. He knows it has something to do with the
Beyond that?I don'?t know.?
?Do you trust him??
?I think he?s clean on this. But he knows something?s wrong, and that it runs deep in the town.?
?Can he help??
?Not much, if at all.?
The smell of the leftover Greek food combined with the mess already in the van makes my stomach roll.
?What is it?? Caitlin asks anxiously.
?Just queasy. Exhaustion.?
I feel her hand close on my left knee. ?Three minutes, you?ll be in my bed.?
A strange laugh comes from my lips, but it sounds like someone else?s voice. ?I thought that would take a lot more work than this.?
?Oh, I'm not worried. I don'?t think you could do anything about it even if you wanted to. Certainly not up to my standard, anyway.?
I want to offer a riposte, but my synapses don'?t seem to be firing properly. My eyelids are closing when my cell phone rings. I start to ignore it, but then I see that the caller is Seamus Quinn.
?Our friends from the Emerald Isle,? I mutter. ?Hello??
?What the fuck are you doing?? Quinn asks with his usual diplomacy.
?Making sure the police don'?t turn my ex-girlfriend?s son into hamburger.?
There?s a short pause. ?Where are you now??
?With my old girlfriend.?
?What girlfriend? The bookstore woman??
?No, my
old girlfriend. The mouthy cunt, as your boss called her.?
Caitlin shoots me a sidelong look.
?What kind of game are you playin?, counselor??
?No game. You told me to do what I would normally do. The chief called me about Soren Jensen, I went to deal with it. I'm still looking for your property.?
?And you haven'?t found it??
?I covered the whole cemetery today, but I couldn'?t find anything.?
?Keep lookin?.?
On a hunch, I decide to take a gamble. ?I did find Tim Jessup?s car.?
?Did you, now? Where was that??
?Bottom of the Devil?s Punchbowl.?
?Ah. Well. That doesn?'t interest me.?
So they already knew about the car. They may even have burned it and run it into the Punchbowl. But from Quinn?s tone, I don'?t think he has Carl Sims on his radar. ?Does your company own a black Escalade??
?Don?t know what you?re blathering on about,? Quinn says. ?But stick her once for me tonight, eh? She?s a hot piece.?
Caitlin obviously heard this last remark. She?s acting like she can?t believe the guy would say that, but she knows better, and she leans close to hear the rest of the conversation.
?I'?ll keep that in mind. I'm sleeping at her place. Tell your goons to keep their distance.?
?High and mighty,? Quinn says. ?Know her type well. They want it nasty. She looks a bit young for you. Give me a ring if you run out of steam.?
Quinn is laughing as I click END.
?Was that Sands?? Caitlin asks.
?No, his security chief. He?s a thug. A monster, probably. Sands talks like the Duke of York. At least until he takes off the mask. Then he sounds like what you just heard.?
?Charming.?
?Don?t try to find out for yourself.? I slide lower in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. ?These guys are predators, you can?t forget that. Tim told me that the first night, and I didn't let it sink in. Don?t make the same mistake.?
Caitlin nods thoughtfully in the dark, but her eyes are bright. As it does most people, evil fascinates her. Like me, Caitlin has probed the dark side of human nature through her work. But unlike me, she has not become exhausted by the effort. As I descend into sleep, I recall a line of Wilde?s that she once quoted to me:
