Quinn - Iris Johansen [97]
Except, now, Jacobs was on the run, too.
“Make up your mind,” Nixon said. “Do I get the money?”
“I’m thinking about it. I can’t decide without studying all the consequences.”
“My time is valuable. I can take care of Gallo and the woman tonight and move on to my next job. Yes or no?”
“I should be able to make a decision within the next two days. Just stay close to them.” He hung up.
He mustn’t let Nixon know he was weak in any way. But Jacobs knew he’d have to find a way to rid himself of Gallo and the woman. He couldn’t dangle Nixon for more than the two days for which he’d bargained. He had to move and move—
His phone dinged to signal an arriving e-mail.
It could be the confirmation on his hotel room at the casino. They’d better confirm his reservations. He’d given them enough of his business.
It wasn’t the hotel.
I warned you, Jacobs. I warned you both. Did you think I’d forgotten? Did you think I wouldn’t find out what was going on?
You’re a dead man.
No signature. Jacobs didn’t need a signature.
* * *
SHIT. SHIT. Shit.
His heart was beating so hard, he felt dizzy.
You’re a dead man.
He had thought that his luck couldn’t get any worse when he’d found out that Gallo and the woman were on his trail.
This was worse. This was deadly.
He felt so scared, he was sick to his stomach.
He had to get control of himself. He could get out of this. He’d made up his mind that he had to disappear anyway. It was just reinforced by that damn e-mail. He would tell Nixon to take care of Gallo, and that bitch, and that would rid himself of one threat. Then he would run and hide and not surface until he thought it was safe.
But to do both of those things, he’d have to have money.
Money was always possible, always just around the next bend in the road. He’d pick a place that had always been special for him.
His luck was due to change. It always did.
And this time he was sure he’d score big enough to set him up for life.
Then he’d have the money to give Nixon.
Then he’d be able to squash Gallo and Catherine Ling as if they were vermin. Then he’d be able to keep that bastard from finding and killing him.
Just as soon as his luck changed.
* * *
“WE’RE BEING FOLLOWED,” Catherine said quietly. “Three cars back, far left lane.”
Gallo nodded. “Gray Mercedes.”
“And he knows what he’s doing. Slow down. I’m going to try to get his plate number.”
Gallo slowed, but it took her three attempts to get the number on the front of the Mercedes. The person tailing them was sliding in and out of traffic like an eel. “Very slick. Jacobs?”
“No, Jacobs wouldn’t be doing his own dirty work. Not unless he was forced into it.” He glanced at the mirror. “But he would have a large number of lethal personnel to call on to do the job. It wouldn’t be anyone from Army Intelligence. Jacobs has blown that cover.”
“Another killer like Paul Black?”
“That’s my guess. Jacobs set up someone to protect his back. He knew that he’d be on the run.” He pulled off the freeway. “And this might not be so bad…”
She nodded. “Whoever is following us would probably know where Jacobs is hiding.”
He smiled. “Two minds with a single thought.”
They did think along the same lines, she thought. It was perfectly natural when they had been trained in the same violent schools of engagement. She had discovered that truth when she had been hunting him through the forests. “Then we need to gather him in and squeeze him for information. Pull over to that Holiday Inn, and let’s let him find us.”
“If he wants to find us,” he murmured. “I might have to go find him.”
“We’ll see.” The gray Mercedes was not coming after them, Catherine noticed. Yes, he was as good as she’d thought. It would have been foolish for him to do anything as obvious as driving into the parking lot. He would come back later, check out their room locations, and perhaps position himself for an attack. “In the meantime, while you check in, I’ll try to verify his license plate.”
“Probably a rental.”
“It will be a start.” She got out of the car and glanced at the side mirror.