Chapter Twenty-Eight
(Thursday Afternoon—Danny)
Some naked girl was rubbing herself all over Howie, who was treating her to his trademark idiot grin. Danny sent Mark over to get him and headed for a table away from the stage.
The bar was full of pounding bass from scratchy speakers, but it should be safe enough as a meeting place. According to Mark, Howie didn’t tell the people he worked with where he spent his three-hour lunches. And nobody at CyberLook knew where Danny and Mark had gone, or even that they were together. So they might be remembered here, but if nobody knew to ask about them it wouldn’t matter. Besides, pulling Howie out of here right away would probably attract more attention than talking to him for a while.
It was still more of a risk than Danny wanted to take, though. If that idiot Howie screwed up again and got himself implicated in taking care of the columnist, and somebody did tell the police where he’d been this afternoon, things would go all to hell. But Danny was in a bind, and in a hurry, so he had to chance it.
Mark got a Budweiser from the bar before he came back. He sat down. “Says he’s coming. Wants to get his money’s worth first.”
“We don’t have time for his crap today.”
Mark shrugged. “Okay. So tell me what’s going on. I found him for you, I can brief him for you too.” He glanced toward Howie, then back. “Whatever it is, it’s gotta be somethin’ you don’t want your partners knowin’ about or you woulda let me call him from the office. And you say you’re in a hurry. You don’t hurry. So…what’s up?”
Danny showed his teeth. “Sometimes I hurry, Mark. Like when I found out at the last minute that Junior was planning to bring Owen back, so we had to scramble without a decent plan. Or when your idiot friend over there, with the tit in his eye, decided he had to kill the neighbor—and showed up late with the Jeep.”
“Neither one of them things was my fault, Danny. Howie said the neighbor got suspicious and hard to handle. I wasn’t there and neither were you, so cut him some slack, okay?” He took a pull from his beer. “About the other, you were just lucky Junior called his girlfriend from one of the office phones. Otherwise we wouldn’t have known at all.”
“And then you let the girl go.”
Mark nodded wearily. “Sure, Danny. We been over this. All I did was tell Howie not to shoot. We were late, and she showed up early. The pooch was done screwed soon as she saw us and you know it. Plus she’d handled the poker. No gloves, a course. So I figured she could take the fall instead of Tremaine, but gettin’ her blood all over would have messed it up.”
“Yeah, that sounds great, Mark. But it still got screwed up, because you didn’t catch her.”
Mark shrugged. “She was quicker’n I expected. We weren’t gonna let neighbors see us outside the house. And what if her ride was still waiting out there?” He tapped the table with his forefinger, staring into Danny’s eyes. “Anyway, so what? I admit it didn’t work out right away. But she’s dead now, ain’t she? And Tremaine’s gettin’ the blame. He didn’t come back to CyberLook, so you were still Junior’s obvious replacement, which I notice you weren’t exactly subtle about. You got what you wanted, even if it didn’t happen exactly the way you planned. So get over it. What’s happenin’, Danny? Why are we here?”
Danny wondered if they’d have to go for a little swim later. Mark was right, but that wasn’t the point. Actually it made things worse. Mark wasn’t in charge here. Danny sat still and listened to the pounding music from the crappy speakers for a while, letting Mark wonder what was going on in his head.
Besides, it was pure luck Reinhardt had been able to help Danny cover for Mark’s screwups. Danny had been amazed at the level of cooperation Reinhardt had managed to get from the FBI. But Reinhardt had laughed at him. In this security-conscious post-9/11 world, federal agencies were supposed to cooperate. Nobody in either agency had to provide much justification for their actions when they could show they were a good-faith response to a request from the other. It was easier than ever to get things done, as long as you had the right contacts. Best of all, doing it this way meant there wasn’t anybody at either the FBI or the NSA in a position to put it all together and see what was going on.
The business with the little girl had almost blown the whole thing, though. He’d had to talk fast to keep Reinhardt under control once he’d found out about her. The young girls had probably been a mistake from the beginning, but sometimes things like that were the price you had to pay to keep a beast under control. Or mostly under control.
Besides. He’d need a prize to offer the winner of the Games once he took over. And a young girl was traditional. Hell, sometimes they even survived, for a while. Once, he’d heard, for years.
But still. That whole situation was getting out of hand. He’d had to guarantee Mark there would be no more children taken just to keep the peace until Danny could take over. The best way to make sure of that was to be sure the current kid didn’t come to any real harm, physically at least. But it hadn’t been easy. And it wasn’t getting any easier.
The most irritating result of Saturday’s fuckups was that Owen was still alive, and still causing trouble.
Danny had checked on him early Saturday afternoon, way out in the Laguna Madre, to be sure he wasn’t coming back early. He’d amused himself, and still hoped he’d made Owen piss himself for slapping that stupid fish on the water. It would also have been cool to tear up his hand.
But all sorts of unknowns and potential complications had popped up. Had Howie been seen at Owen’s boat? Had either Howie or Mark been seen at Junior’s? Would Shawna go to the police? Would she be believed?
No, it had been better to wait, and pick the proper moment for action. Junior was out of the way, and Danny had to be in the clear on that. He could sacrifice Mark and Howie, whom Shawna had actually seen, if he had to. Though if she’d talked to the police and implicated them, Danny’s alibi wouldn’t have looked so good.
That idiot Howie, who now appeared to be licking something off the breast of yet another naked girl, had redeemed himself somewhat by calling him when Shawna had shown up at Owen’s hotel. Danny had come up with what he considered a brilliant maneuver to get Owen arrested and keep Shawna from testifying. Or doing anything else. She’d been an annoying bitch anyway.
Danny felt a slight flare of conscience and quashed it. Maybe going ahead with the little girl watching had been a smidge over the top even for him, but it wasn’t as if she were likely to have any long-term trauma. He needed her unhurt for now, but she probably wouldn’t have a long term at all.
The hell with her. His problem right now was the columnist, and secondarily controlling Mark and Howie. It looked like Mark wanted to challenge his dominance, and this wasn’t a good time for it. What if Howie joined him? Danny might not be able to take them both, not if they ganged up on him.
The meeting with the columnist was an obvious trap, but he couldn’t avoid it entirely. The NSA contract was basically just a verbal agreement at this point. If a column like that appeared in the paper, the deal was probably off—and Danny doubted he’d be in a position to complain about it afterwards.
All right. He would play along, at least to the extent of seeing what Carl actually knew. And there was the off chance that a bribe would actually work. But if Danny fell into a trap, he’d fall as obliquely as possible.
Mark was starting to shift in his chair. Good.
Danny stared at a point a few inches past Mark’s eyes, showing no expression.
Mark turned up a hand, looking apologetic, and started to say something. But a scantily-clad waitress came to ask if they wanted drinks, and Danny decided drinking would be less conspicuous than not. He ordered bourbon for both of them, and another for Howie, because he was finally coming over.
“Cousins!” Howie greeted them cheerfully. Mark winced.
“No time for that,” Danny said. He decided to pretend Mark hadn’t been pushing the limits. Let him wonder what would happen.
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br /> Danny sat quietly until the drinks came, then told them what to do. Mark flushed under his quiet stare and covered it by gulping whiskey. Afterwards Danny checked his watch, stood up, and left his own drink sitting on the table.
Better. Mark hated bourbon.
Shiver on the Sky Page 44