Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(70)

“That’s it, then,” she said, loosening her tie. “We’ve got the rotors and the only two potential witnesses are dead.”

“The deaths of Pell and Jones will be big news in Burning Cove,” Ray said. “But that’s it. The local cops will conduct an investigation and determine that it was just a gangland killing. Happens all the time.”

“In Chicago and New York, maybe, not Burning Cove,” Lorraine said. “But you’re right. The police will buy that story because it will be all they’ve got.”

The sedan bounced over a washed-out patch of road.

“Take it easy,” Lorraine snapped. “The last thing we want to do now is damage that cipher machine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ray slowed the car to a crawl. “Things sure as hell got messy there for a while, but we’re all set now. We meet the client at that warehouse in L.A. tomorrow night, get our cash, and then we board the ship. From now on, it’s just you and me, babe, and we’re gonna have a fortune to spend. No more loose ends.”

The Broker was potentially a loose end, Lorraine reflected. Whoever he was, he knew how to put major deals together in the underworld. She had been very careful in the years that she had been using his services but there was no way to know how much he might have learned about her by now.

Ray was wrong about the limited police investigation. The Burning Cove cops might write off the deaths of a couple of mobsters, but the FBI and a certain government agency would not take the disappearance of the Ares machine well. It was unlikely that they would ever track down the Broker, but if they did, he might be able to point them in her direction. It was definitely a good time to get out of the country.

After the cascade of disasters in Burning Cove, things were finally back on track. The rendezvous with Pell and Jones had gone off like clockwork, and so had the bomb in the briefcase. In a few hours she would be in Los Angeles, packing her bags. The situation was once again under control.

But now that the initial rush of excitement and relief was evaporating, she couldn’t shake a nervy sensation. Maybe that was because there was one more loose end to take care of tonight.

She watched the gouged and rutted road that was unspooling in the car’s headlights. The surrounding landscape was empty of any sign of human habitation. The lights of Burning Cove were visible in the distance, but there were no houses in the vicinity. This was as good a place as any.

“Stop the car,” she said.

“Huh?” Ray shot her a startled look. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to check those rotors. I need to make sure they fit the cipher machine.”

“Too late to worry about that now, isn’t it? Pell and Jones are dead. Besides, it’s not like they could have come up with a box of fake rotors in such a short period of time, not here in a small town like Burning Cove.”

“I have to make certain. Stop the car. It will just take a few minutes.”

“This is a waste of time,” Ray said. But he brought the sedan to a halt.

Lorraine got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side. She opened the rear door.

“The suitcase is heavy,” she said. “Give me a hand, will you?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ray opened his door and climbed out from behind the wheel. “Hurry up, will you? I don’t like standing around out here in the middle of nowhere like this. There might be rattlesnakes or tarantulas or something.”

“Or something,” Lorraine said.

She raised the gun she had concealed behind the car door and pulled the trigger twice.

The shots caught Ray in the chest. He staggered back a few steps and sagged to his knees. He clutched at his chest. His mouth opened but no words came out. He toppled sideways and did not move.

“Amateur,” Lorraine said.

She slid the gun back into the holster, closed the rear door, and got behind the wheel. She drove off slowly, aware of the delicate machine on the rear seat of the sedan. The contract called for a functioning Ares. There would be no payment if the damned thing was damaged in transit.

When she reached the paved stretch of road that would take her back to Burning Cove, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She did not see the roadblock until she came out of the last curve before Cliff Road. The car parked across the pavement bore the logo of the Burning Cove Police Department. The vehicle and the uniformed officers standing near it didn’t worry her nearly as much as the sleek Packard parked at the side of the road. Two men dressed in dark suits and fedoras lounged against the fender.

Matthias Jones and Luther Pell were supposed to be dead.

This new development went a long way toward explaining why her nerves had been so badly strained in the past few hours. She thought about the body she had left on the road a few miles back.

Time to rewrite the script. Again.

Cue: Woman screaming.





Chapter 49


Raina put down the phone, visibly relieved.

“That was Luther,” she said. “It’s over. He and Matthias are safe and there has been an arrest, but the case has taken another screwy turn.”

“Describe screwy,” Amalie said.

She and Raina were in Luther’s private booth overlooking the tiered seats on the main floor of the Paradise. It was one thirty in the morning and the club was crowded with the usual assortment of glamorously dressed people. The orchestra was playing a hot dance number. A sprinkling of celebrities glittered in the discreetly illuminated star booths; tinsel on an overdecorated Christmas tree.