Free Fire - C. J. Box [80]
He could hear Barron swallow. “But you wouldn’t really go to the FBI, would you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay,” he said in a whisper, “I can do that.”
“And you need to keep it coming,” McCann said. “Ten thousandtonight, ten thousand tomorrow, ten thousand the next day until you can pay the balance from your company, whenever that is. It’s not my problem, it’s yours. I’ll talk with my banker every morning. If you miss a single day, I sing. Got it?”
Silence.
“Got it?”
“Yes.”
McCann felt some of the burden lift from his shoulders. “That’s not all,” he said, liking the way the power had shifted to him.
“What else?”
“It’s time for you to contact your man on the inside,” McCannsaid. “Tell him what’s going on and see if he can do something about it. He’s the only guy close enough to the situationon the ground to steer it away from us. It’s time he got his hands dirty.”
Barron moaned, as if McCann were torturing him. “He’s not going to like it.”
“I could give a shit,” McCann said, starting to feel, finally, that he was making things happen in his favor. “He’s had a free ride so far. Tell him to act or he’ll be implicated as well. Tell him I’m serious.”
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way,” Barron said, his tone strangely resigned, as if seeing McCann in an all new light as his enemy. Good, McCann thought. It’s about time.
“All you had to do was your part,” McCann said. “I did mine.”
He hung up the telephone, sat back in his chair, looked at his reflection in the glass doors of his bookcase, and fell righteouslyback in love with the man who grinned at him.
He’d let the locals get to him. He’d even let one old cow whack him on the head with a telephone receiver. The power he’d built up since his time in jail had been pouring out of him since he’d returned, puddling at his feet. Now it felt like the wounds had healed. He was recharging.
“Jeez,” he said, “I missed you.”
He was still smiling when Sheila D’Amato opened his door without knocking and leaned against the jamb with her hand on her hip and a sly smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled.
“You son of a bitch,” she said with admiration.
“Don’t tell me you listened,” he said, shaking his head.
“Ten thousand a day,” she said. “Damn, you’re a better earner than the crooks I used to hang with.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, maintaining the grin somehow while part of his brain raced, trying to process the magnitude of what she’d done, how he would deal with it.
“I’m still confused,” she said. “I don’t get what it is you guys are trying to hide. I mean, it obviously has something to do with some Sunburst thing, but I don’t get how that has anything to do with those four dead people.”
“It’s complicated,” he said.
“I’ve got all night.”
“Let’s go have some dinner,” he said. “I’ll fill you in.”
She beamed, and he was surprised how attractive she looked when she was full of joy. He hadn’t known because she’d never been so happy in his presence before.
They stepped onto the sidewalk to go to Rocky’s for dinner.He held the door open for her and smelled her as she came through. A nice scent. He liked the way her heels clicked on the pavement. It was rare to see a woman in the West in a dress and heels, and he found himself lagging behind her a little so he could look at her strong calves through the nylons.
“I’ve got to say,” she said, shooting a come-hither look over her shoulder, “I’m more than a little surprised that you didn’t bite my head off for listening in.”
“I thought about it.”
“But you didn’t,” she said. “I guess that means we really are in this together.”
“I need allies,” he said.
“I’d like to think I’m more than that.”
“You are,” he said.
“This all has to do with that company, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“What company?”
"EnerDyne. I saw the binder on your credenza. You work for them, right?”
He whistled. “Boy, you don’t miss a trick, do you?”
“I haven’t yet,” she purred. She’d knocked another