Abandon - Carla Neggers [82]
The mountains had focused Jesse’s mind. Dragging Cal up there overnight maybe hadn’t been the greatest idea, but leaving him in Washington to cut his own deal with the FBI, or whatever, wasn’t an option. Now that Deputy Mackenzie and her FBI guy had found Harris, the police and the media were all over his death. She and Rook weren’t identified in media reports, but Jesse knew it had been them. They’d found the rooming house. Was it because of Bernadette Peacham? Her friendship with Harris?
Doesn’t matter.
Of course, the reporters were all saying Harris was murdered. Jesse considered what he’d done that night was self-defense at its most elemental and pure.
Cal slowly rubbed his wrists and ankles where the rope had cut deep into his fair skin. “I will die, anyway, won’t I?” His tone was surprisingly matter-of-fact. “Sooner or later, I’ll pay for my sins.”
“We all pay for our sins.”
With the passage of the cold front yesterday, the air was downright chilly. Jesse could have slept for hours, if not for Cal gagged and bound a few feet from him. Awake, Jesse had his assault knife to keep his prisoner in line. Asleep, he needed Cal quiet and immobile.
“Oh, God.” Cal abruptly rolled onto the knees and vomited into the dirt, moaning as he finished up and sat back on his heels, his face ashen. “Damn you to hell, Jesse. Harris was right about you. You are the devil.”
“We had a good arrangement, Cal. You profited, Harris profited, I profited.”
“But for how long? You’d never take your million and go way. You’d be back for more. You wouldn’t be satisfied, and I’d get in deeper and deeper, until one day I found myself in the middle of a scandal, just like Harris.” Cal’s voice croaked, and he spat again. He looked haggard, his lips cracked dry from the gag. “I didn’t want to end up like him.”
Jesse thought of the way he’d left Harris at the rooming house. “That I can understand, but you should have come to me, talked to me. Treated me like an equal, a partner, instead of something you wanted to scrape off the bottom of your shoe.”
“I don’t have any intention of keeping one cent of your money. The rest is just to make sure you go away and never come back.”
Jesse opened up a plastic water bottle and handed it to Cal. “Don’t drink too fast. You’ll throw up again.”
“Do you think I care?” But he drank, water spilling down his chin like drool, and he didn’t stop until he’d drained the bottle. He tossed it aside, not bothering to wipe his mouth. “I wish I’d run you over on the street when I first met you.”
“Yes, well, you didn’t,” Jesse said. “Stop thinking about jumping me now. You’re in no condition, and I’ll kill you.”
“If you kill me, you won’t get your damn money or anything else.”
“Your ex-wife—”
“Bernadette doesn’t know anything. Just leave her out of this mess.”
“You’re trying to make sure I don’t throw you over a cliff and rely on the sainted Judge Peacham instead. You don’t care what happens to her. Don’t pretend you do.”
Cal’s eyes darkened. “Did you kill that poor girl in Washington?”
“Your little blonde? Why would I kill her?”
“For leverage. If there’s one thing you understand, Jesse, it’s leverage.”
“True.”
Jesse reached into his pack and produced a protein bar—peanut butter and chocolate chip. Not his favorite, but he tore it open and took a bite. He had his knife tucked in his belt. One wrong move by Cal, and Jesse would cut him and enjoy doing it. The guy was scum.
The protein bar was dry and purely utilitarian. He loved the stripped-down life the mountains required. No distractions, no excesses. The ability to survive was all that mattered up here. He took another bite of the bar and drank some water.
“Don’t think I don’t know you, Cal,” he said. “I’m a great observer of people. That’s how I make my money. You’re bored.”
“I’m fighting for my life and you think I’m bored?”
“You brought your women