Wolf extended his hand toward the lawyer.
“Rod,” he said. “Thanks again.”
Shemp stared down at Wolf’s open palm for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what was being offered, then shook it. McNamara leaned forward, keeping both hands on his cane, and made no motion to offer his hand. After a few awkward moments of blasé conversation, the lawyer left, getting into a Buick LeSabre. He waved as he drove off.
“Well, at least he’d driving an American car.” McNamara frowned as he looked at Wolf. “I thought I told you not to call him Rod. Not with him dating my daughter.”
“Come on, Mac. He did us a solid, and he didn’t even charge us anything.”
“He’s lucky I ain’t charging him,” McNamara said. “For all the times Kasey’s had him over to Sunday dinner and such. Come on.”
He ambled toward Reno’s van.
“Hey, Steve,” Reno said. “How’d it go?”
“My lawyer got there in the nick of time. How about you?”
Reno laughed. Wolf could see that the dynamite chick who’d been driving the van yesterday was once again behind the wheel.
“I laid it on so thick they’ll have to use a fire-hose to wash the place down.” He cocked a thumb toward the rear of the vehicle. “I came and went in my wheelchair, along with my doctor and my lawyer, a guy in an Armani four-thousand-dollar suit, and stuck to my guns. PTSD causing total CRS—Can’t Remember Shit.”
“Sounds like an expensive lawyer?”
“The six-figure kind. He’s the TV company’s lawyer. They don’t want to take no chances now that the show might get picked up for syndication.”
“Syndication?” Wolf said.
“Yeah,” Reno said. “You know, them endless repeats that run all the time on cable channels. Like Walker, Texas Ranger and Law and Order. Puts a lot of money in my bank account every time one of them is broadcast.”
Wolf raised his eyebrows. It was good to know that somebody in this business wasn’t hurting for money. And also that Reno had gone in with an elephant gun instead of a BB gun.
“You need a wheelchair?” Wolf asked.
Reno laughed again.
“Nah. Not once I got out of rehab. But I kept the van and the chair just for shits and giggles. Figured when I start fighting again, I can use it as a publicity gimmick. You know, saying I was getting it ready for my opponent because they’re gonna need it.”
Wolf nodded and wondered if Reno’s shot-up leg would ever allow him to step back in the octagon again. Perhaps this would be a good time to ask him about setting up an MMA match so Wolf could get his feet wet.
Reno snorted a laugh. “If I ever get back to fighting, that is. Anyway, it came in handy already. I used it today to keep them federal idiots off my back, and it’s also how I met Barbie here.”
The gorgeous girl behind the wheel flashed a dazzling smile.
Wolf was suddenly leery about discussing too much about this FBI matter in front of her. But if she and Reno were close, he’d probably confided everything to her anyway. That could be a problem down the road.
“Well,” Wolf said. “All’s well that ends well, I guess. We’d better get over to Manny’s. He said he had something pressing, right?”
“He did,” McNamara said. “But you ain’t heard the best part yet. Reno’s gonna let us drive the Hummer until we get the Escalade back.”
Wolf felt stunned.
“The Hummer?”
“Yeah,” Reno said. “I ain’t been driving it anyway. You guys might as well get some use out of it, least ways until you get yours back.”
About twenty-five minutes later, in the parking lot of Reno’s gym, McNamara and Wolf looked at the massive, jet black Hummer with the heavily tinted windows. The vehicle was a modified, scaled-down version of the Humvees he’d driven in Iraq and Afghanistan. It didn’t have any armor plating or exhaust pipe extension, but it was still impressive enough without the combat accessories.
“Reminds me of the ones we drove in the Sandbox,” Wolf said.
“It’s a kissin’ cousin, that’s for sure,” McNamara said. “And it sure beats the hell out of that damn rental.” McNamara was still walking with the assistance of a cane, but he made beeline for the Hummer. Wolf walked beside him, unsure if his friend was going to be able to ascend into the high seat, but when they got there, Wolf saw a set of footrails.
Hitting the remote to unlock the big vehicle, McNamara made a show of walking around it and checking out the interior.
“Hot damn,” he said, opening the rear door. “Will you take a look at this?”
Wolf stepped over and saw that two sets of manacles had been welded to floorboards and to another bar running horizontally across the back of the front seats. Reno had also installed a metal cage behind the front seats so the rear seat portion could be used to transport prisoners. Wolf wondered how much this decked out vehicle had cost with all the bells and whistles. The memory of Reno’s buddy, Herc taking three 7.62 mm rounds in the chest also lingered in Wolf’s mind. The reconciliation between Reno, Mac, and himself had come at a high price.
“Pretty impressive,” Wolf said.
“Impressive, hell,” Mac said. “It’s ingenious. Reno’s smarter than I thought.”
Wolf chuckled, glad that Reno had elected to just give them the keys and not accompany them out to inspect the vehicle.
“This way we can make multiple pinches in one fell swoop,” Mac said. “We can leave one guy trussed up in the handcuffs while we go grab another one.”
Wolf nodded, wondering how Kasey was going to react to her father suddenly putting himself back into the game.
“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” Wolf said. “You’ve still got a ways to go on your recovery, don’t you?”
“Sheeit,” McNamara said. “I’m feeling better and better every day. Why I was even tempted to join you on your run this morning.”
“Well, you don’t want to overdo it.”
McNamara snorted and slammed the rear door shut. He opened the driver’s door, angled himself next to the rocker, and lifted one foot and then the other onto it.
“Let’s go see what Manny’s got for us,” he said shifting his bulk up on the seat and situating himself behind the wheel. “I’m itchin’ to make an arrest, and I’m even more itchin’ to make some money.”
Making money, Wolf thought. That was the name of the game right now.
As they drove to Manny’s in tandem, with Wolf in the loaner, a maroon Chevy Malibu, he assessed the aftermath of the morning sessions with the feds. Mac’s interview had apparently gone reasonably well. He said he’d managed to stick with the same story as the one he’d used down in Mexico: that he, Reno, and Herc had met down there, hired a driver, some Mexican guy whose name Mac couldn’t recall, to take them around Cancun to do some sightseeing, and maybe meet some pretty senoritas on the sly. Then this group of banditos stopped them somewhere, he didn’t know where, and couldn’t remember when, due to their imbibing. The banditos tried to rob them and shot them up. Their driver pulled out a gun and started the firefight. Herc got shot, as well as Reno and Mac, who managed, by the grace of God, to drive all of them all to the hospital. All except the Mexican driver who vanished.
“When they asked me for a description,” McNamara said, “I described our little bandito fella on my mantel.”
“You got to be careful shoveling too much bullshit at them,” Wolf cautioned.
McNamara blew out a breath derisively. “Those FBI pussies couldn’t find their asses with both hands and a flashlight. They typed out a statement and wanted me to sign it, but Shemp got there and told me I didn’t have to sign nothing.” McNamara grinned. “He asked if I was under arrest, and when they said no, we walked right on out, slick as could be. Then he went back in to fetch you.”
“Sounds like Rod made a double play,” Wolf said, stressing the lawyer’s name.
“Rod?” McNamara frowned momentarily. “I thought I told you not
to call him that?”
Wolf saw the flicker of the Hummer’s left turn signal up ahead and it jarred him out of his reverie. He flipped his down and reflected that he’d been so lost in his thoughts about the federal investigation that he hadn’t even realized they’d already driven across town and were at the bail bondsman’s office.
I wonder what was so pressing that he had to see us right away? Wolf thought.
He’d said it was something big.
Of course, that was how the last mess had started.
Chapter Six
Office Of Emanuel Sutter
Bail Bondsman
PHOENIX, ARIZONA
“I got a call from the Pope,” Manny said between chews after biting into a foot-long Subway sandwich.
Wolf and McNamara were seated in the two unpadded metal chairs in front of Manny’s big desk. As usual, it was awash with paperwork. Freddie, aka Sherman, was seated off to the side talking into his cell phone. His side of the conversation consisted mainly of a lot of yeahs, un-huhs, and an occasional crack of laugher.
Manny turned and yelled for his nephew to keep it down.
“We’re trying to have a conversation here, for Christ’s sake.”
Freddie swiveled in his chair, turning his back on them.
Manny took another bite.
Wolf felt his own stomach growl. He’d been in such a rush to shower and get prepped for that interview, he’d skipped breakfast. He was sure that Mac had, too.
“The Pope,” McNamara said. “I didn’t know you were Catholic.”
Manny held up his finger while he chewed the substantial portion down to a reasonable enough size to resume conversation.
“Not that Pope,” he said after shifting a portion to his right cheek. “Alexander Pope. He’s a bail bondsman in Vegas. Calls himself the Pope of the Strip.”
“What’s up with him?” McNamara asked.
Again, Manny didn’t answer immediately, in favor of clearing more of the masticated food. Finally, he swallowed once, grabbed the extra-large soft drink glass, and took a hefty swig.
After emitting an exhalation of satisfaction, he belched and made a move toward devouring more of the sandwich.
“Why don’t you wait on that until you tell us what’s up?” McNamara said. “We missed breakfast.”
Manny’s eyebrows rose. “Heck, I didn’t know that. Want me to send Sherman here out for a pick-up for youse?”
Freddie’s head bobbled around at the mention of his unwelcome nickname, but he kept talking into the phone.
“No,” McNamara said. “Watching you has spoiled my appetite. What I do want is for you to tell us what’s so damn important that you had to see us right away.”
Manny nodded and drank some more of the soda. He set the remainder of the sandwich on the waxy wrapper that was spread out on his desk.
“Okay, first things first.” He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out two files. “The wolfman here’s been pushing for some quick pinches so I’m gonna give you two. Both paper tigers, so you shouldn’t have no trouble with them.” He handed the files across the desk to McNamara. “You can thank me later.”
Wolf felt like saying he’d buy him dessert, but Wolf didn’t think his bank account could handle the strain.
“Second,” Manny said. “Like I told ya, I got a call from the Pope. He’s gonna be out a big one, to the tune of a hundred and fifty G’s, if he don’t get this guy in by the next court date next Wednesday.”
“Standard recovery fee?” McNamara asked.
Manny nodded, then grinned. “Plus a nice big bonus.”
Wolf noticed that Manny had copious amounts of food stuck between his teeth.
McNamara whistled softly. “What exactly is he offering in the way of a bonus?”
Manny grinned. “Don’t get too excited just yet. There’s more. First of all, he ain’t even sure the skip’s in Phoenix. The only thing he is sure of, is that he beat feet outta Vegas in a hurry.”
“Who is this guy?” Wolf asked.
“His name’s Willard Krenshaw.”
Something clicked in Wolf’s memory, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was.
Manny was still grinning and shaking his extended index finger at Wolf.
“Yeah, I figured the wolfman would know that name,” Manny said. “Been in the news plenty the last couple months.”
Then it clicked for Wolf. “The attorney?”
“Right. The guy that was suing that congressman about a year or so ago for allegedly playing hide the salami with that model.”
It was a male model who’d made the claim that the married congressman had forced his attentions upon him after slipping him a roofie, or something like that. Wolf remembered hearing it on the news while he was still inside. It got a big laugh from his cellmate, who never missed a news broadcast. Wolf didn’t remember the case going much farther than the news cameras, but the lawyer had subsequently gotten into some kind of trouble himself.
“Then old Willard stepped on his dick,” Manny said. “Big time.”
“He got indicted for something,” McNamara said. “As I recall.”
“Yeah, for witness tampering.” Manny laughed out loud. “The dumb fucker got caught on a wiretap.”
“Wasn’t the mob involved in some way?” McNamara asked.
“Sure was. The Bellotti family. Krenshaw was their standard mouthpiece.”
“So the feds were tapping an attorney?” McNamara said.
“No, it’s more complicated than that,” Manny said. He picked up the sandwich again but didn’t take a bite. He only fingered it lovingly. “He’s been the Outfit’s lawyer for years. The case where he got his dick in a wringer was for insurance fraud. He was pressuring this company to offer a cash settlement, or something, and hinted that his friends, the Bellotti’s were in his corner.” Manny laughed. “The company went to the feds and they started recording everything. Got poor old Willard on tape being a greedy asshole.”
“And the feds grabbed him,” McNamara said. “Hoping to use him as leverage to build a case against his other clients?”
“Exactly,” Manny said. “Which is why the Outfit wouldn’t post no bond for him. They figured they could get him iced in jail easier than they could on the outside, and it wouldn’t look all that suspicious.”
“So he called the Pope,” McNamara said.
“Everybody always does in Vegas,” Manny said. “But in this case, it was his girlfriend that called.”
“And the Pope posted bond for him?” McNamara shook his head. “Didn’t they have to put up some collateral?”
“Yeah. She put up some of her jewelry and the shitbird put up his Mercedes and his house in Palm Springs.” Manny laughed again. “Turns out the jewelry’s quality paste, the car’s a beat-up piece of junk, and he’s so upside down in his mortgage that the equity won’t even cover your bar bill for a month.”
“I’m liking this more and more,” McNamara said.
But Wolf wasn’t.
“So why’d he skip out?” he asked.
Manny shrugged. “He probably knows they got the goods on him. This milquetoast wouldn’t last a New York minute in the joint. And his only other choice is to play ball with the feds and to roll over on the mob boys.”
“Which means the Outfit’s looking for him, too,” Wolf said. The picture was getting a bit darker all the time.
Manny’s head canted to the right and his fingers continued to trace over the loaf of bread.
“Well, yeah, that’s always a part of the picture.”
“Hell, we ain’t scared of no goombas,” McNamara said.
“I don’t know, Mac,” Wolf said. “We might need substantial back up on this one if the mob’s involved.”
McNamara made a huffing sound and was just about to speak when Manny broke in.
“And you got some,” he said. “The Pope’s already got Ms. Dolly and the P-Patrol on the case and they’re heading this way.”
McNama
ra smiled broadly, looked over at Wolf, and winked.
“Now that is good news,” he said.
Wolf remembered the three beautiful female bounty hunters with a lot of fondness as he recalled their liaison in Las Vegas but couldn’t speak to their professional talents. His contact with them had been purely social, and extremely pleasurable as well, as had Mac’s. But he’d said they were consummate pros, and he and Mac could certainly do worse for partners on this one. It was a given that Mac was going to jump on it.
“And Ms. Dolly seems to think that Willard’s heading for Phoenix?” McNamara said.
“Right. His sister lives here.”
“So in addition to the feds and the mob,” Wolf asked. “Is anybody else looking for this dude?”
“Just Ms. Dolly and you guys,” Manny said, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I wait any longer I might turn into a pumpkin.” He brought the sandwich to his mouth and took an enormous bite.
You don’t have too far to go, Wolf thought.
“So the Pope’s gonna be out a hundred and fifty large,” Manny said, shifting the food to his cheek. “He specifically asked who the best bounty hunters in Phoenix were, and I told him you guys.”
He took another bite, then reached for the large paper cup containing his soft drink and sucked up a copious amount.
“So what’s our cut if we grab him?” Mac said.
“Well,” Manny said. “Like I told you, the P-Patrol’s involved, too, so I’d say you guys could be in for maybe a third, or even half, depending on how things go.”
Mac grinned. “Ordinarily we’d do it for free for Ms. Dolly, but we got some financial issues at the moment. We’ll settle for half.”
“That’s for you to work out with her. Or work in.” Manny’s grin was lascivious. “But one other thing. The clock’s ticking on this one. He’s due in court in four days.”
“Hell,” McNamara said. “Anything else?”
Manny flashed a lips-only smile and replied with a shrug.
At least he kept his mouth closed, Wolf thought.
Devil's Fancy (Trackdown Book 2) Page 9