Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(23)
Isaac had gone yesterday to check on Will, see how he was doing after being stabbed by a so-called friend, and get his take on his new beef with the Sullivans. Will had been abrupt and uncommunicative.
Isaac had let it go, preferring to give him a chance to calm down and feel better, and then try again. He didn’t want to go hard at a guy he’d been good friends with since grade school. Not unless he had to. For now, he had other avenues he could explore.
Like Mac Evans, for one thing. Slimy piece of shit. For the greater part, the residents of Signal Bend hung together. The ones who’d stayed were committed to staying, and they felt a bond to the town and to each other. Even though there were some rank *s among them, they were united by the common interest of keeping the town together. Not Evans, though. His only interest was himself. He’d helped banks evict and foreclose on dozens of families, getting a fee from the bank for his efforts. Profiting on the misery of his neighbors, people he’d known his whole life. He wouldn’t get the kind of patience Isaac had for Will.
Mac had dodged Isaac all day yesterday, but Showdown had him pinned in his office this morning, so Isaac went straight there from his perplexing visit with Lilli. If the Knights’ mysterious backer was looking for property in or around Signal Bend, then Mac knew about it. Fuck, he was probably in on it, or trying to be. The situation was about to change, though. Isaac was ready to make Mac an offer he couldn’t refuse.
He pulled up in front of the realty office and went in. Show was sitting in front of Mac’s large walnut desk, stroking his long, tawny beard, his big, booted feet resting on the heavy wooden inbox. Mac had a thing for the 1950s, so most of the décor in his office was of that era. Isaac figured Mac thought it looked vintage. Really, it just looked old. In Signal Bend, lots of old things stayed in use.
Mac was sitting in his roomy, “vintage” leather chair, looking sweaty and uncomfortable. Lisa, his secretary, was not at her usual station by the door.
Isaac nodded a query toward her desk. Showdown answered, “Sent her home for the day. Mac here is giving her a paid day. Right, buddy?”
“Guess so.” Of all the things to be unhappy about today, paying for Lisa’s day off should have been low on Mac’s list. But the * was all about the dollar signs.
Isaac turned the “Open” sign over, locked the door, and shut the blinds on the door and front window.
Then he pulled up a chair and sat down next to Show, knocking his VP’s legs off the desk. Mac was eyeing him nervously. As he should.
“Mac. Left a message for you yesterday, but I didn’t hear back. So we thought we’d catch you early today. Got some questions.”
“I’d have called back, Ike. I was tied up yesterday. You guys have no need to shut me down—I’m missing appointments here.” Mac gave him a petulant look.
Isaac leaned forward, putting his elbows on Mac’s desk. “See, buddy, that’s the thing. That’s what makes me wonder. How busy could a real estate guy be in Signal Bend? I feel like I’d know if there were more people behind on their mortgages for you to f*ck out of their homes. So I’m wondering what could have you so busy that I don’t know about.”
From somewhere in the depths of his oily heart, Mac Evans must have found something he thought was courage. Or maybe he’d made a new friend he thought more dangerous than Isaac. Because he leaned forward, too, his palms flat on his desk, and said, “You ever think that you don’t know everything that goes on? You ride around on your noisy-ass bike like you’re the king of this town. Well, let me tell you, Little Ike, the world is a lot bigger than Signal Bend, and when it comes right down to it, you’re just a small-time, small-town thug.”
If Mac hadn’t used that hated name, maybe Isaac would have reacted more calmly, spent more time trying to talk some sense into him. But Mac had chosen to heap scorn and disrespect, and he’d gone for the thing he knew would dig deepest.
Lightning-fast and without a word, Isaac grabbed a large pair of silver scissors off the desk and rammed it through Mac’s hand, pinning him to the desk. Mac shrieked and instinctively tried to pull his hand back, worsening the wound but not freeing him from it.
He was making a huge ruckus. The realty building had some distance from other businesses, but not enough to be sure he couldn’t be heard. As Isaac yanked the scissors out, Showdown clocked the squalling f*ck upside his head with his old-fashioned Bakelite desk phone. He collapsed to the desk in a heap, unconscious and quiet.
Showdown gave Isaac a look. He was almost as tall as Isaac, and every bit as broad, and his steely blue eyes bored into Isaac’s greens. “Brother, you can’t take that bait.”
Isaac glowered at him. “Fuck you. You know we were gonna have to do it hard anyway. Mac’s an arrogant ass. But he’s also a *. He’ll fold.” Show pulled his burner out; Isaac knew he was calling for the van.
They were going to have to f*ck up another town resident this week. Putting hurt on Mac Evans wouldn’t lose Isaac any sleep, but what the holy f*ck was going on?
oOo
Isaac had to meet with Kenyon in St. Louis that afternoon, so he left Show and Vic to deal with Mac, and brought Len, Havoc, and Wyatt on the run. If all went well, it was a turnaround run, and they should be back before midnight. Not that any f*cking thing was going well lately.
When they stopped for gas, Isaac called Snow and checked in. Mac had caved, as Isaac had known he would, and, after Bart took Mac’s intel and dug deeper, they now had a name: Lawrence Ellis.