Tick Tock - James Patterson [86]
“Just you,” she said, kissing me.
We kissed for a while, standing. I could feel the goose bumps on her arms as I touched her. She shivered when I laid my palm on her bare back.
“I want you, Mike,” she whispered a few wonderful minutes later. She took my hand again, this time tugging me toward her bedroom.
“I always have,” she said.
We kissed on her bed for a while, and then she broke off suddenly and headed for the bathroom.
“Get the champagne from the other room,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
I went out and took the champagne off the coffee table. I was turning back to the bedroom when I stopped. Suddenly I couldn’t do it. I didn’t even know why. Pascal said that the heart has reasons that reason itself knows nothing about.
I placed the bottle back down on the coffee table. Instead of opening the bedroom door, I crossed the room to the hotel room door and left.
I looked back up at Emily’s terrace one time as I walked out onto the street. Then I just shook my head and headed uptown, searching for my car.
Chapter 94
SAVORING THE LAST BITE of his Magnolia Bakery cupcake, Carl Apt crumpled the wrapper and, without breaking stride, hook-shot it at the corner garbage can he was passing. It bounced off the light post a foot in front of the can before landing in the exact center.
Bank shot! Yes! Swa-heeet! he thought as he pumped his fist.
Wiping frosting off his nose, he continued to walk south down Christopher Street in Greenwich Village. He now wore a pair of black suit pants, a crisp white shirt, red silk Hermès suspenders, and an undone red silk Hermès tie. The point of buying the outfit at Barney’s after killing Wendy was for him to blend in on the street, and it was working like a charm.
Except for his gun in the laptop bag strapped to his side, he could have been just another Wall Street hump trudging home from a busy day of destroying the world’s economy.
Despite the APBs and whatever video the NYPD had of him, he knew he was okay. He knew how hard it was to catch someone with means on the move if he didn’t want to get caught. With his ATM card and Lawrence’s dough, he could walk around forever if he wanted. If he didn’t do something stupid to get himself arrested, he would never get caught.
And the last thing he was was stupid.
He was on his way to one of his safe houses, the one in Turtle Bay, where he was going to gear up for tonight’s grand finale. He could hardly believe he was almost done. There was only one more name to go. One more target. One more hit. It was a doozie, too. He was actually looking forward to it because it was the biggest, ballsiest challenge of all.
Spotting an HSBC Bank on the opposite corner, he remembered he was running low on cash. How much would he need? he thought as he crossed the street. Two hundred? Screw it, three. After all, it was only money.
“Hey, bruva. How about a dollah, bruva?” said someone at his elbow as he was carding himself into the alcove of the bank.
He looked up and shook his head, smiling.
He’d seen white street guys with rasta dreads before, but never a pudgy Asian. The short Chinese-looking guy even had a six-string guitar with a Jamaican flag on the strap.
New York was a trip. You never knew what was going to happen next. He was going to miss it.
“Maybe, bruva. We’ll see,” Apt said.
WELCOME TO HSBC, the screen of the ATM inside said. PLEASE INSERT YOUR CARD.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he mumbled as he followed the instructions.
His account kicked out a thousand a day for expenses. Since he didn’t have to use the whole grand every day, there was more than nine grand in it.
Tonight when he was done, it would have a lot more.
Eight million more, to be exact.
It was his big payday. His retirement money. The real reason he was going to such incredible lengths to take out everyone who had ever crossed his dearly departed and extremely wealthy friend, Lawrence.
He wiped the