What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [68]
“Fair enough,” she said. “What did he want?”
“It was the thing with the banana-farming insurgents in Paraguay …”
“I heard about that! I thought it was just a rumor. That was you?”
Liam bobbled his head this way and that. “Yeah, I guess.”
“What?” said Festus. “What?” They ignored him.
“Hmm.” Lola resettled herself, brushing her hands down the front of her pants. “Okay then. Well, I assume then that you know all about Whitford and this Baphomet thing.”
“I know Clyde was in DC, trying to find it,” said Liam.
“You’re on a first name basis with Clyde Parker?”
“Well, not anymore I’m not.”
“Right.” She gave him a wry look, but then the look faded, in much the same way smiles and warm faces tend to disappear when people look out their front window and see a homeless guy defecating in the yard. She pointed to Festus. “Does he really need to be here?”
Liam put up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Just— Yes, he does.”
“Right,” said Lola. She picked her bag up from beside her feet, and began rummaging through the stacks of papers inside. “So, yesterday, Parker turns up dead, and they search his hotel room and find bunch of notes about something called Project Baphomet.” She produced a manila folder stuffed with papers and dropped it onto the coffee table.
“Any idea what Baphomet is?” he asked.
“No, not really. Apparently it had something to do with mind control, but that’s pretty much the extent of what we know – other than that the CIA was involved originally.” She pulled out a phone, and clicked some of the buttons as she waited for Liam to look through the folder. “One of the names you’ll see in there is Alistair Preston. He was, apparently, one of the leads that Parker dug up, only he’s here – in Texas.” Lola reached for the folder and shuffled through the papers.
Liam took the page she held out. “Preston… British Intelligence?”
“I guess,” she said, playing with her phone again. “I’m supposed to meet him in – shit – thirty minutes.” She reached over to gather up the folder.
“What? Where?”
“Wimberley.” She held out her hand, and Liam handed back the page he’d been reading.
“We went tubing there,” said Festus. This wasn’t quite the contribution to the conversation he’d hoped it would be.
Lola didn’t even look in Festus’ direction. “I’m hoping he can tell us what the heck Baphomet is. Maybe that will give me some insight into whatever the Governor is really up to.”
Festus nudged Liam. “Oh yeah, right,” said Liam. “Festus heard something about how the Governor might be planning some kind of thing.” Another nudge. “Some kind of biological or chemical weapon or something.”
“What?” She glanced up from her bag. “Why would you know anything about—?” She sighed a weary sigh. “Never mind. Liam, we need to leave.”
“You’re right,” said Liam. “He can tell you about it in the car.”
Lola held up her hands. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No, no. It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
Raju was doodling on the counter with a dry-erase marker as Lola, Liam, and Festus walked out of the back room.
“Raju,” said Liam, “I’m going out for a while. You’re in charge.”
“Okay,” mumbled Raju, apparently still hung over from whatever adventure had culminated with him being curled up in the desk chair.
“I may be a while. I don’t know. You might have to close up.”
“What? How long—?” Raju looked up, a tiny bit of alertness finally having crept in to his baked-out gourd. “Hey! Wait a second.” He stood.
Lola made the mistake of glancing in Raju’s direction, but only for an instant before gluing her eyes to Liam. Liam didn’t look as worried as one might expect the proprietor of a guitar shop to be upon finding his cash register being manned by a pants-less employee.
“Raju, where the hell are your pants?”
“I love her,” explained Raju.
“I don’t care,” said Liam. “Put your pants back on.”
Raju smiled at Lola. “Hey, baby.”
Lola took a couple of slow, sultry steps toward Raju and the cash register. Her lips parted ever so slightly and glistened. Her chest heaved. Liam’s jaw dropped, and his eyebrows tried