Slash and burn jh-3

by Matt Hilton

  'I thought you wanted this Ballard woman dead, boss,' Cal Burton said.

  'I do, but only after I've had a long talk with her. She has evidence against me that I need to get back. If she's dead she can't hand it over.'

  'You think Hunter will actually deliver her to you?' Wicker shook her head slowly. 'The way he's fighting for Kate Piers, it's unlikely he'll be the type to hand another woman over to you.'

  'Ballard is a stranger. She means nothing to him. But I believe that Kate is another story altogether.'

  'They're sisters, aren't they?'

  Huffman looked over at Souza. It was the first time the man had shown any interest other than in matching Larry for bicep size.

  Souza unfolded his arms. 'He's hardly going to hand over the sister of the woman he's protecting. Something like that isn't going to endear him to his girlfriend, is it?'

  'Can I ask a question, boss?'

  Huffman looked at Cal Burton. The man did that infuriating roll of his tongue, saliva cracking as a bubble popped. Cal ran a hand through his scruffy hair.

  'What would you like to know?'

  'If it's so important that you get Imogen Ballard alive, why'd you want us to kill the man who's best placed to bring her to you?'

  'He's far too dangerous to be allowed to live. If he handed over Imogen in exchange for her sister, how long would it be before we were back to square one? He'd come after Imogen with as much determination as he's already shown.'

  'You said a minute ago that he didn't know or care about Imogen,' Wicker pointed out. 'Why would he come after her?'

  'Because Kate would ask him to.'

  'So why let Kate live?' Molloy asked. 'Why not gut the bitch and show this Hunter what'll happen to him if he doesn't hand Imogen over? Give her to me: I'll do it for you.'

  Wicker turned angry eyes on Molloy.

  'You're a pig, Molloy. I'd call you a misogynist but you probably wouldn't understand what I was talking about.'

  'I like women just fine,' Molloy told her. 'So long as they keep their feckin' mouths shut!'

  'You know something, Molloy,' Wicker said. 'If every man was like you I would become a lesbian.'

  'Shit, I thought you already were.'

  'OK, that's enough!' Huffman stood up and placed the cigar between his lips. Around the cigar, he said, 'Fighting each other, you're making it easier for Hunter.'

  'Get Wicker the hell out of here then,' Molloy said. Turning to Charles Grade, he added, 'And you'd be better getting shot of that old man. He's only going to slow the rest of us down.'

  'I've a better idea.'

  The Irishman began to turn towards Huffman's voice, just as Huffman whipped his right hand across his throat. A silver flash at the end of his fingers seemed to caress Molloy's skin. Molloy's eyes went wide, then the flesh in his throat gaped and a flood of blood was pouring down his neck. The gash widened further and Huffman had to step away to avoid the squirt of blood from a severed artery.

  Molloy realised he was dying.

  He grabbed at his throat with both hands. It was pointless. He stumbled to his knees. He tried to scream at those standing immobile around him, but the razor had sliced through his larynx and all that came out was a gurgle. Blood squirted again, in time with each faltering beat of his heart. He collapsed face down.

  Huffman eyed each of the others in turn. 'I've had enough insolence out of that asshole. Anyone else here who thinks they can talk to me like that?'

  Burton rolled his shoulders in a shrug. Wicker stared down on her tormentor with a look of smug satisfaction. Only Souza looked perturbed, but not from any love of the Irishman. Grade was actually smiling.

  Grade said, 'That Hunter is one bad bastard. Poor Paddy there didn't stand a chance. I'll make sure his people know he died a hero, boss.'

  'Thanks,' Huffman said with a cold smile. 'Appreciate it, Grade. Anybody else see anything differently, now's the time to say so.'

  Three of them seemed pleased with the outcome. Only Souza stirred, but just to cross his arms again.

  'Problem?' The razor was still a pale blur in Huffman's cupped palm.

  'No, boss, of course not. Molloy was a liability,' he said. 'He would've sacrificed the rest of us to get his own way.'

  'Yeah,' Larry Bolan rumbled from behind him. It was the first time Larry had entered the conversation. No one else caught the meaning in that single word, but Huffman looked across at the big man.

  'Do we all think we can work together now?' Huffman asked. No one declined. 'Good. Let's get started then.'

  Huffman crouched down and wiped the cut-throat razor clean on Molloy's trousers. He slipped the blade up his sleeve and into its holder before standing up. Throughout the meeting his hired hands had stood silently at the outside of the ring of killers. He indicated two of his men over. 'Take this piece of shit out of here.'

  'What will you do with him, boss?' Wicker asked, watching with an unhealthy interest as the two men lifted Molloy from the floor.

  'He'll go where the others went. To the slaughterhouse.'

  Chapter 35

  You can disappear for a week without really trying. As long as you don't make contact with anyone, and you don't lay down a paper or electronic trail, then you can skim along below the radar. Imogen Ballard had done just that without any great effort.

  For the past seven days she'd been an anonymous passenger on a cruise ship that had taken in the Caribbean Islands, visiting Puerto Rico, St Thomas and St Maarten. She had stayed on board on an all-inclusive basis, avoiding disembarkation where she would have to show her passport or where a record of her boarding card would be kept. An imprint of her credit card had been taken when she had originally boarded the cruise ship at Miami, but until it was time to leave she'd used only an on-board charge card. No record of her transactions had entered her banking system until she was back on dry land, and even then it would possibly take days before the record was updated. The original booking had been made and paid for in cash. Only someone with access – and the time – to enter all tour operator systems would have been able to uncover her whereabouts. It was something that Huffman had not thought of.

  Neither had I.

  I met Imogen at Dallas Fort Worth International. When she walked out of the arrivals lounge at terminal C, I immediately recognised her. She had changed her hair since the photograph on Kate's phone was taken. She'd cut it short and coloured it darker and she was tanned from sub-tropical sunshine. Sunglasses concealed her eyes. But I knew her. She was the double of Kate. Slightly shorter, slightly heavier of build, but she would have passed as Kate's twin rather than her older sibling.

  'Hi, Imogen,' I said. 'I'm glad you came.'

  'If what you say is true, how could I stay away?'

  As was to be expected, Imogen Ballard was very nervous. She had only my word that I was her friend and this was a woman who'd been running for her life for the past week. She studied me from behind the sunglasses. 'I remember you from Jake's funeral. It's weird meeting you again after all these years.'

  'I'm only sorry that it's under these circumstances.'

  'Me, too.'

  Taking her luggage from her, I turned towards the parking lot. I'd commandeered the Windstar from my friends, leaving Rink and Harvey to make plans back at the cabin on the lake. I just walked, trusting that Imogen would follow.

  In terms of area DFW Airport is the second largest in the United States, encompassing ground between both cities from which it takes its name. We came out from the terminal and headed off to pick up the road north for Pilot Point. We didn't speak for the first few minutes. She was jumpy; I could be another ploy of Robert Huffman's to get his hands on her – which to be fair I was, in a way – and could be driving her to him right now. She was putting a lot of faith in a man her deceased brother could no longer vouch for.

  'What do you have on Huffman?' I finally asked.

  'Why do you want to know?' In my peripheral vision I saw her shift towards to the passenger door
, as though readying herself to leap out of the moving vehicle.

  'I know you have evidence that can bring his business down, but is there more to it than that?'

  She didn't answer immediately. When she did, it was with a question of her own. 'Are you seeing Kate?'

  'No,' I said. Then I regretted answering so quickly.

  'Oh, I thought…'

  'I was employed by Kate to find you.'

  'When I accessed my voicemail, there were messages from my sister. The impression I got was that… well…'

  I gripped the steering wheel. Changed the subject.

  'I'm pleased that you decided to make contact, Imogen. I know you're putting a lot of faith in me.' Taking my eyes from the road just long enough to make a connection with her, I said, 'Kate's relying on the both of us.'

  Imogen pushed a finger beneath her sunglasses and I got the impression she was wiping away a tear. Then I had to turn my attention to the road. Traffic was very heavy, crawling along in all lanes. We were on the North Stemmons Freeway passing Lake Lewisville, approaching a bridge that spanned a spur of the lake. Road signs advertised turn-offs for Hickory Creek and Corinth; straight ahead was Denton.

  'Where are you taking me?'

  'We've a cabin at Pilot Point.'

  ' We being?'

  'Did Jake ever mention another member of our team called Jared Rington?'

  'You mean Rink? The Japanese guy?'

  'One and the same,' I said. 'Except he's only half Japanese. His father is Scottish. Rink's there waiting for us. There's another guy, too. Harvey Lucas.'

  'Don't know him.'

  'He wasn't one of our team. But I wish that he had been. He's good.'

  'Did Kate hire them, as well?'

  'No. They came here to help me get Kate back.'

  'Three of you,' Imogen shook her head disconsolately. 'Do you realise how many men Robert Huffman has at his beck and call?'

  'A lot less than he started with.' I told her what had happened since Kate and I arrived at her house above Little Fork. It was my way of reassuring her that we were on the same side. But I saw horror in her face long before I'd finished.

  'You killed Trent Bolan?'

  'He was going to kill me.'

  'What about Larry?'

  'Got away.'

  She pushed her face into her cupped palms and moaned.

  'They're monsters. Do you know what they did to William Devaney? He was the sheriff-'

  'He was your lover.'

  Pushing the sunglasses on top of her head she looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. 'Yes. He was my lover. But then the Bolans beat him to death. Trent tore his ear off, Joe.'

  'That's the downside of mixing with people like them,' I said. 'Devaney shouldn't have tried blackmailing them.'

  Imogen made a sound of scorn. She snapped the glasses off her head, closing them and pushing them into her purse. I discreetly checked to see if she was packing the way Kate had been but saw only the usual things that accompany a woman, plus a digital video camera.

  'You were there when they murdered Devaney?'

  'Yes.' Her fingers went to the camera. 'I was hiding in the woods. I was supposed to record the meeting Will had with Huffman. Will wanted it to use as evidence.'

  'You're saying that Devaney wasn't blackmailing Huffman?'

  'Of course not, he was only building a case against him and Roger Wallace. He was going to take the money and the recording and pass them to the state police. Will knew that he was too close to them to do otherwise. He had to pretend to be as dirty as the rest of them.'

  'Why didn't he bring in the state boys before then? Why use you to record the meeting?'

  'He trusted me. It had gotten to the stage where he didn't know how many of his own people were involved in the scam. If he went to the state police first he couldn't be sure the word wouldn't get back to Huffman. When Jim Aitken turned up with the Bolans it proved he was right to worry.'

  'Jim Aitken told me that after Devaney was killed you made your own demands.' Looking at her steadily, I said, 'To the tune of two million dollars.'

  'And you believed that sack of shit?'

  'I had no reason not to.' I didn't mention that I'd been torturing the guy at the time.

  'He was lying.' By the way she turned her face away I knew that he wasn't the only one.

  'I don't care,' I said. 'What you tried to do was wrong, Imogen, but compared to the things that Huffman and the others did, it's nothing. The only thing I'm angry about is that your greed put Kate in danger.'

  'I wasn't blackmailing anyone. I only wanted what was rightfully mine. Huffman owed me money.'

  'A couple of grand,' I said.

  'Doesn't matter. He was refusing to pay me for work I'd done at his restaurant. I wasn't going to let him get away with it.'

  'So you put your sister's life at risk because of a couple of thousand dollars? I bet it doesn't seem like such a good idea now.'

  'I never meant for Kate to get involved.'

  'Doesn't matter,' I said, throwing her words back at her. 'She is. She might die, Imogen.'

  Her fingers went to her face again, and this time I could detect the tremor in them. That Imogen had attempted to embezzle money from dangerous men didn't really concern me. There were worse things she could have done: such as trying to demand money from innocent people.

  'Imogen,' I said. 'I've laid all my cards on the table. You know who I am, who is with me. You know we're here to help you. If I had any agenda other than getting Kate back, you'd know that too by now.' I didn't say that she'd be dead, but she got the message. 'Tell me what you have on Huffman.'

  She nodded, and I detected a nerve ticking at the corner of her right eye. She sucked in a deep breath. 'I was developing a website and publicity campaign for a restaurant in Little Fork.'

  'Le Coeur de la Ville.'

  'Yes. The owners were planning a grand relaunch. They refurbished the entire building, sank thousands of dollars into bringing it up to date. Little Fork was growing at an exponential rate. A top-class restaurant was a magnificent investment in the town.'

  As she spoke, I thought of the last time I'd been in the restaurant; it wasn't such a great investment now.

  'It came as a surprise when the owners announced that they were selling up. Up until that point they'd been very excited about their plans for the place. I'd reached a stage where I was almost ready to launch the publicity campaign and then the rug was ripped from under me.'

  'Huffman purchased the place. Then he refused to pay for the work that you had done.'

  'Yes,' she said. 'There was no warning. Practically overnight things turned sour. The owners just left and Huffman moved in. I know things like that happen all the time in business, but nevertheless there was something fishy about it. I was allowed to clear out my equipment from the office that I'd been using at the restaurant. But – and normally I would be ashamed to say this – I took more than what belonged to me. I found files on le Coeur's computer pertaining to the buyout by Huffman. They showed that the entire deal was a sham: Huffman purchased the building and the business, along with all its assets, for a miserly twenty thousand dollars. It didn't take much to realise that Huffman had forced the owners into selling. Huffman needed to be brought to book for that, so I took what I'd found to Will.'

  'And this was where Devaney hatched his plan to prove Huffman was employing dirty tactics to purchase land and property?'

  'Will already knew that there was something going on. He told me that he'd been conducting his own investigation into Judge Wallace and the fact that he was rushing Huffman's purchases through the system. He said that he needed more evidence, though. Something tangible that would prove their guilt.'

  Our journey had taken us round Denton city limits and I had to concentrate on the roads while I picked up the spur that would take us along the northern edge of the city to the road up to Ray Roberts Lake. Imogen was silent, as though she'd explained everything. But there were still too m
any holes in her story.

  'Aitken told me that Huffman paid Devaney off but he refused to back down. He told me that Devaney began to demand more money.'

  Imogen stirred beside me. She straightened a little in her seat, but she still had the look of defeat. 'If he did, it was without my knowledge.'

  'Tell me the truth, Imogen. Devaney went from being a cop to someone who saw a chance at getting rich. And you saw it as a way of getting revenge on Huffman.'

  'OK, Joe, I'll admit to that. We did see it as an opportunity to take what was rightfully mine. I just wanted to make Huffman pay up. But, despite what you think, we were going to hand the money and the record of the deal over to the state police.'

  'After you skimmed your cut off the top?'

  'No,' Her face had become very hard. 'I was going to go through the proper channels. I'd already lodged a compensation claim against Huffman; I intended pushing that through court when Huffman and Wallace were on trial. I had more chance of winning my case for compensation at a criminal trial than I did via any other route.'

  'So you set up the meeting with Huffman?' I angled the Windstar on to a turnpike, picking up the road to the north. 'Why in God's name did you do it all the way out in the woods?'

  'We didn't have much time to prepare. Huffman was obviously nervous about meeting somewhere the handover could be observed. So we chose the woods above Great Well waterfall. I knew the area well; I knew all the good hiding places. I went ahead, set myself up so I could film the handover.'

  'Except Huffman didn't turn up,' I said. 'Aitken and the Bolans came instead and that's when they murdered Devaney.'