Durrie took a deep breath and said nothing for several seconds. “The loss of a life is not taken lightly. Usually when someone is
“But it’s still breaking the law.”
“Really? Then try to take me in and arrest me. If you’re not killed first, you’ll soon find that you’re the one in prison, not me.”
Jake thought for a moment, then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”
“Interesting,” Durrie said. “If our roles had been reversed, that would have been my first question.” He paused. “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
After Oliver was locked away, Durrie went back upstairs. It was up to the kid to now either accept that Durrie’s information was true, or take the easier route and believe it was all a fabrication. Durrie had left absolutely nothing out, telling Oliver every detail of the job, warts and all. Tomorrow he would go over what had happened after they discovered that Oliver had learned of their presence. But for today, their conversation was done. He wanted Oliver to sit with the story, go over everything himself, and try to poke holes in it.
Durrie headed for the kitchen, intending to start preparing lunch, but when he passed his phone sitting on the kitchen table, he could see he had a message waiting. The phone number indicated it had come from the Office.
He thought about ignoring it. He still had more than two weeks on his deal with Peter, so, as far as he was concerned, they had nothing to discuss. But he knew the message would nag at him until he checked it.
“Durrie, it’s Peter. You need to call me as soon as you get this.”
But then Peter’s voice added something. “It’s about Larson.”
Durrie groaned.
Anything to do with that asshole probably wouldn’t be important, either. He tried to think about what it could be, but the only thing he could come up with was that maybe Peter was finally getting around to taking Larson out of circulation, and needed some information from him.
He stood there for a moment, unmoving, a miniature battle going on in his head. Reluctantly, he decided to return the call and get it over with.
“It’s Durrie,” he said when the call was answered.
This time the woman on the other end put him immediately through to Peter.
“I called you over an hour ago,” Peter all but yelled.
“I was tied up.”
“With your
“What do you want, Peter?”
“Larson’s gone rogue.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Someone leaked that we were planning on removing him.”
“Wonderful,” Durrie said, not meaning it. “But I don’t see how this should concern me.”
“He knows our decision was based on your information. He also knows you have the cop.”
Durrie almost smiled. “Are you trying to tell me he’s coming after me?”
“Yes.”
“He’s not going to find me.”
“Don’t count on that. He may have been a wild card, but he still has connections.”
“I don’t care what he has, he’s not going to find me.”
Peter paused. “Indications are he’s heading for Colorado. If that’s not where you are, then you’re right. But if it is…”
There was still no reason to believe Larson would find them. It was a big state, after —
There’d been an operation Durrie had worked on years earlier, an operation Larson had played a minor role in. Their employers at the time had been the same people who had set up the cabin Durrie was now using.
“How is he traveling?” Durrie asked, thinking arrangements could be made to meet Larson if he was flying in.
“Driving from Chicago. He knows we can’t watch all the roads.”
“When did he leave?”
“At least twenty-four hours ago.”
Twenty-four hours? Larson could be here already. “Is he alone?”
“We’re not sure.”
Durrie swore to himself again. “What are the chances of my having backup on standby?”
“So you
“Peter, answer the question.”
“It could be arranged.”
“Then arrange it.”
27
Jake lay on his bed, thinking about everything Durrie had laid out for him. Truth? A lie? What? It was unbelievable, yet plausible, like a whole different world lying beneath the one Jake knew.
At some point his stomach began to growl and he realized Durrie was late with his lunch. Another hour passed, then two. Soon he wasn’t thinking about the morning discussion, but wondering if Durrie had maybe left him there to die.
Finally, the door opened, and Durrie stepped inside.
“Hungry?” he asked, then tossed Jake a couple of apples and an orange.
“This is it?” Jake asked.
“Sorry. Didn’t have time to make anything.”
Jake frowned, then took a bite of one of the apples.
“Things have changed,” Durrie said,
“What do you mean?”
“I told you about the shooter on the op in Phoenix.”
The shooter, Jake now knew, was the dark-haired man from the Lawrence Hotel who’d gone by the name Mr. Walters. By Durrie’s account, he was a loose cannon who was the root of most of the problems on the mission. “What about him?”
“He’s discovered some information that would have been better kept from him.”
“What information?”
“He found out his name was put on the termination list, and he thinks I’m mainly responsible for that.”
“So he’s not happy,” Jake said.
“No. He’s not. He has also always considered
“Me?”
Durrie then told Jake about how they had been tracking him since he’d found the matchbook, how they’d known where he’d gone and who he’d talked to.
“If he’d had his way,” Durrie said, “you would have been dead before you went to your superiors. You’re the one who uncovered things, you’re ultimately the one who put the X on his back.”
“That’s not true. I don’t even know his name.”
“Larson,” Durrie said, without hesitation. “That’s what he goes by. And like it or not, you and I are the cause of his problems. Now he’s looking for us. Unfortunately, I have a feeling he might know where we are.”
