Lethal(63)

Doral hadn’t shied away from the danger involved. The payoff was worth the risks. He liked walking a tightrope and enjoyed the inside joke of being a public official by day and something else entirely by night.

His job description was to intimidate, maim, or kill if necessary. He had a natural propensity for stalking and hunting, and now he could make a living at it. The only difference was that the prey was human.

So here he was speeding along back roads, his prey Lee Coburn. And his best friend’s widow and child.

When his cell phone rang, he slowed down only marginally in order to answer the call, but after hearing the urgent message the caller imparted, he floorboarded his brake pedal and skidded to a stop, sending up a cloud of dust that enveloped his car. “Are you shitting me?”

There was a lot of background noise, but the whispering caller made himself heard above it. Not that Doral wanted to hear anything of what he had to report.

“I thought you should know so you could pass it along to The Bookkeeper.”

“Thanks for nothing,” Doral muttered. He disconnected and pulled his car off the road, letting it idle on the edge of a ditch as he first lit a much-needed cigarette, then called The Bookkeeper.

He was stone cold sober now.

He skipped traditional greetings. “It’s rumored that Coburn is a federal agent.”

The Bookkeeper said nothing, just breathed slowly and deeply. Malevolently.

Doral, envisioning a seething volcano about to erupt, swiped at a bead of sweat rolling down his temple and into the outside corner of his eye.

“When did you hear this?”

“Ten seconds before I called you.”

“Who told you?”

“One of our plants in the P.D. He heard it from a feeb who’s working with them and the sheriff’s office on the kidnapping. The buzz is that Coburn is an agent who’s been working undercover.”

A long silence ensued. Then, “Well, as you so astutely pointed out this morning, he does seem unusually smart for a dock worker. I only wish you had realized that before you let him escape the warehouse.”

Doral’s gut clenched as tight as a fist, but he didn’t say anything.

“What about Honor’s friend? Anything from her since you paid her a call this morning?”

“Tori hasn’t left her house. I honestly don’t think she’s heard from Honor or she wouldn’t be sitting tight. One thing I did find out, she’s got a new boyfriend. Bigwig banker in New Orleans name of Bonnell Wallace.”

“I know him. We’ve got money in that bank.”

“No shit? Well, I caught up with the health club’s bimbo receptionist at Subway when she went out for lunch. Made it look like a chance meeting. Schmoozed her, and it didn’t take much. She was only too happy to unload about Tori, who she referred to as a royal B with a capital letter, and that’s a quote.”

Doral was now breathing a little easier. He was pleased to have something positive to report following the rumor about Coburn. He hadn’t been idle today. He’d been proactive and was making progress. It was important that The Bookkeeper know that.

“The bimbo—her name’s Amber—her guess is that Wallace doesn’t want any of his banking customers or highfalutin friends to know he requires a personal trainer, so that’s why he started coming down here for his workouts. He’s got a fat belly, but a fatter purse. Tori was all over him in a New York minute. Sank her claws into him, and now he’s ga-ga. Tori is under the misconception that their affair is a secret, but all the employees know that it’s not just iron Mr. Bonnell Wallace is pumping whenever he comes to Tambour.”

After a lengthy silence, The Bookkeeper said, “Good information to hold in reserve in case we need it. Unfortunately, it hasn’t moved you any closer to locating Coburn, has it?”

“No.”

“You and Fred left us with a mess, Doral. At a time when we least need a mess. No matter what Coburn is, he should have been killed along with the others. I haven’t forgotten who let him get away. Find him. Kill him. Don’t disappoint me again.”

The cheap whiskey surged into the back of Doral’s throat, scalding and rancid. He gargled it down. “How were Fred and I to know—”

“It’s your business to know.” The Bookkeeper’s tone of voice sliced to the bone, silencing any excuses Doral might have made. And just in case the message hadn’t quite sunk in, The Bookkeeper added, “You’ve heard me speak highly of Diego and his razor.”

Goosebumps broke out on Doral’s sweat-dampened arms.

“The only problem with using Diego is that it’s over too quickly for the person who failed me. He doesn’t suffer long enough.”

Doral barely made it out of his car before throwing up in the roadway.





Chapter 25





Honor was stunned to realize that Coburn seriously planned to move her father’s shrimp trawler.

Her protests fell on deaf ears.

Within minutes of hanging up on Hamilton, Coburn was in the wheelhouse, flinging back the tarp that had been placed over the control panel. “Do you know how to start the engine?” he asked impatiently, motioning to the controls.

“Yes, but we’d have to get it into the water first, and we can’t do that.”