Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [56]
And all he had to do in return was to keep this kid Lowell focused on doing what he was supposed to do.
Nothing old Burt-man couldn’t handle, though Lowell was turning out to be a real pain in the ass. Stupid, too.
Old Vince had sure read him right. It was obvious to Burt that Lowell was in no hurry to follow through with his part of the bargain. Burt figured Lowell planned on being a no-show as far as his promise was concerned.
Think again, little man, Burt muttered under his breath as he wrestled the Ho Hos out of the bag and bit the plastic wrapper to open it. No way was Burt going to let Lowell weasel out of his obligation to Giordano. More important, no way was Lowell going to cheat him, Burt Connolly, out of the rest of the money.
He gunned the big engine of the pickup and passed an SUV that was going just over the speed limit.
Lowell was such a wimp; he could be scared into doing just about anything. Look at what he’d already done, shot that old man in Ohio. Burt shook his head in disgust, recalling how Lowell’s voice had shaken, how terrified he’d been once the deed was done. Burt’s plan had been perfect; there was no one who could have connected Lowell to the killing.
Except that the FBI already knew that the old man would be a target.
How stupid of Lowell not to have told Burt about their visit to the trailer. Would have served him right if the cops picked him up. It was almost enough to make Burt call off the hit on that writer guy, but there was no way anyone could know about that, right? He figured Unger wasn’t such a stretch that the FBI agents couldn’t have figured that out on their own, but who the hell would connect the writer to a hard-assed serial killer like Curtis Channing?
And if Lowell got caught, so what? He had no way of identifying Burt. He’d just have to make sure that he didn’t leave his fingerprints on anything that Lowell could give up later.
Of course, if Lowell got caught, that would end the game prematurely. There’d still be that one last hit. After that, well, he’d have to wait and see.
Burt had gotten a glimpse of target number three, and he’d sure liked what he’d seen. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Lowell was taken out of the game. Burt might have to jump in and pinch-hit, so to speak.
Wouldn’t that be a shame? Burt grinned as he recalled watching Miranda Cahill fold those long legs of hers into that little car one night outside the Well. The sudden image of those long legs wrapped around his waist caused his heart to flip over in his chest. Wouldn’t that be a pretty sight?
Well, first things first. Lowell had a job to do, and Burt was going to make certain the job got done and got done right. There was plenty of time to think about what was to be done about Agent Cahill.
“Hey.” Will stuck his head into Miranda’s cubicle.
“Hey, yourself.” She smiled at him from her place behind the desk. “I was just going to call you.”
“What’s up?” He stepped through the doorway and leaned over the back of the visitor’s chair that stood before her desk.
“I just got off the phone with Veronica Carson up in Fleming. No sign of our boy in town since Friday.”
“I’m assuming the police have interviewed his friends. His bar buddies.”
“According to Carson, they’ve spoken to just about everyone in town. No one has seen or heard from Archer since he left the Well on Thursday night. His mother says he couldn’t have gone far because he had absolutely no money. He never mentioned to anyone that he was