Authors: David Bishop
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #General, #Mystery & Detective
“I’m not going to tell you my plans.”
“Oh, come on, Linda. You’re here to open another bank deposit box to leave more cash and diamonds. Then you’re off to Sedona, Arizona, to do the same thing.”
“How do you know the towns I’ve chosen?”
“Your problem isn’t my knowing. It’s that the two men who followed you out of Seattle, who stayed a few rooms away from you in Weed, and then followed you this morning, they knew.”
“I saw no one.”
“That’s the point. But don’t worry. They’re no longer of any concern.”
“Did you kill them?”
Ryan smiled. “Not important. What is important is that the man Cynthia told you about in her letter, the man by whom I’m employed, knows you’re here in Vegas and that your next stop is Sedona.”
The food came. “That’s enough for now. You’re safe with me. Let’s just relax and enjoy our meal. Just figure, I’m one of the men you used to meet in the cocktail lounges outside of Sea Crest.”
“That’s what this is about? You saved my life, so I should fuck you. Is that it?”
The couple at the next table turned toward them.
“Unless you desire to do a foursome, I see no reason to bring that man and woman into our conversation. Now, should you prefer a threesome, I suggest the woman sitting alone at the table near the wall, the lady in the red dress with the wonderful cleavage.”
Linda sat clenching her napkin, staring into her plate. When she looked up, she calmly asked, “So you figure I’m some kind of whore because I went looking to get laid by strangers?”
“No. You’re a woman who had talked herself into being afraid of life, but still had needs.”
“I ask again. You figure you’re entitled to a good roll in the hay because of having saved me?”
“If I just wanted to get laid, I could have let my two men in the alley finish you off that first night. Gotten paid, quite handsomely, I might add, and then headed here to Vegas to blow off steam with a couple of the town’s best lady escorts.”
“So, what is it you want?”
“For you to eat your dinner, this pot pie is delicious. You haven’t started yours. Eat. You need your strength.”
Linda picked up her fork and broke the pastry crust on her pot pie. “This is all so crazy. I mean, Cynthia told me nothing. Nothing! I have no idea beyond what she put in her letter and what you have told me tonight.”
“I believe you, but that’s of no consequence. The man wants you dead once I’m convinced you’ve told no one anything. If you have, I’m to handle them in the same manner.”
“And that leaves me where?” Linda asked.
“Bottom line: whether you knew it before or not, you now know Webster’s identity. That alone is enough to have him order you dead. You also could tell the authorities what Cynthia’s company did for him, and how he used that information. So he will never rescind his order for you to be eliminated.”
“Eliminated! What a polite word. You mean murdered, don’t you?”
“Yes. I mean murdered.”
“So what do we have here? Is this the condemned woman’s last meal?”
“If I were going to kill you, I would not be here at your table. People have seen us together. I would strike without warning and without anyone being able to put us together in any manner.”
“Here in Vegas?”
“The principle applies wherever it would be done.”
“So I should expect to die when I get to Sedona?”
“Look. I’m not going to kill you. At least I don’t think so.”
“Well, isn’t that reassuring? And, if I take you back to my room and fuck your brains out, then my chances go up, right?”
“Whether or not we have sex has no bearing on whether or not I kill you. One is business. The other is pleasure. But, as long as we are on the subject, your attitude is making it clear the odds of you surviving tonight are much higher than my odds of being seduced. Sad as I am to say it.”
“I guess that gives me some comfort. My God, this is the strangest conversation I have ever had.”
“Me, too. I think you’re a real pistol, Linda Darby. I’m very impressed with your composure.”
“You can’t see me on the inside.”
The waiter came toward them. Ryan waved him off and said, “Keep eating.”
Linda took another bite, then pushed her plate toward the center of the table and lifted her wine glass. “So what do we do now?”
“No one is on your trail at the moment. Relax. Consider it a night off.”
“No one except for the man who finds me everywhere. The man who might at any moment just up and decide to kill me for his own financial gain.”
Ryan shrugged. “You’re safe for now. I propose we sleep in. Neither of us has had a good night’s sleep in a few days. Then tomorrow you go ahead and get your banking done. Then we head for Sedona. Only this time we travel together.”
“What the hell difference does the banking make? If you’re going to kill me, the money and diamonds become irrelevant.”
“True. But then, if you’re dead, it matters not whether you’ve put them in the bank. So, I suggest you proceed as if I’m not going to kill you.”
“It appears I have your promise not to kill me while we’re in Vegas. Is that right?”
“All of Nevada actually.”
“Then what’s stopping me from yelling for hotel security and the local police.”
“You can if you wish. But you will accomplish nothing other than to damage yourself.”
“And how would that hurt me?”
“You’re still thinking like a law-abiding citizen, which you are no longer. You’re here using an alias so your fingerprints and your ID will not check out. I could suggest they make inquiry with the authorities in Sea Crest about a dead guy found in their surf. That’s without mentioning that you have a wad of cash and diamonds with you for which you cannot account. As for me, my credentials would check out just fine. I would be released, and you would be bound over as a . . . person of interest in a homicide, and held for Chief Ben McIlhenny’s arrival.”
Linda’s eyes confirmed Ryan had checkmated her threat.
“Why don’t I buy you a drink in the Crazy Horse?” he said. “The show begins in ten minutes. You’ll fit right in.”
He took her arm as they left the Nob Hill restaurant and walked through the casino.
In the Crazy Horse they were waited on by a handsome, older woman with gray hair swept atop her head like a pewter crown. Ryan ordered two Gibsons and a white wine for Linda.
When the show was about half over, she leaned toward Ryan. “What did you mean that I’d fit right in?”
“This show is a sexy celebration of the beauty and grace of the feminine form. Your body’s at least as delicious as any on the stage.”
“You’re a rather straightforward man.”
“Do you mind?”
“No. I guess not.”
“Good.”
As they stepped out of the elevator an hour later, he handed her one of his room keys. “I’m three doors down from you, on the same side of the hall, if you get scared, let yourself in.”
“But you said I was safe.”
“You are, but the invitation is open.”
“Fat chance.”
“Senator Abernathy, what are your plans now that you are retiring from the U.S. Senate after thirty-six years?”
“I’ll be taking the little woman here back to Texas where I’ve bought us a nice spread outside San Antonio. I surely am ready for some quiet living for a change.”
“And will your ranking member of the committee take over as chair?”
“I recommended him, endorsed him as you asked me to do. I used some of your money leftover in my campaign account to encourage the leadership to support him. It’s in the bag.”
Webster’s bodyguard, Victor, subbing for the house staff who had been given the night off, approached Webster’s guests holding a crystal cognac decanter in one hand, the stopper in the other. The senator extended his snifter. Victor poured to the normal one-third line. Mrs. Abernathy placed her hand over her glass.
“Have you got enough funds for your plans?” Webster asked. “We can’t be having a former Senator living beneath his stature, now, can we?”
“Thanks to your generosity, Mr. Webster, over the years, I’ve salted away plenty. We’ll be just fine, with more than enough left over for Theresa here to continue in luxury after I’m gone. We both thank you for this wonderful Persian tapestry you’ve given us tonight. It will be displayed prominently in the house on our ranch.”
“That’s so kind of you, Senator.”
Senator Abernathy lowered his head in deference to Alistair Webster. Then quickly drank the balance of his cognac, sat his glass on the side table and rose. “Come, my dear. We’ve taken enough of our host’s evening.”
Theresa Abernathy stood, and then coaxed her dress down until it rested just above her knee. She stepped around the table, and hugged Webster while whispering in his ear. “Thank you, for bringing me the truth.” Webster’s hand squeezed her buttock. She didn’t pull away.
“Senator, let me walk you to your car.” Then Webster turned to Victor. “Will you carry out the tapestry? Use a big sheet of plastic to line the Senator’s trunk. We wouldn’t want anything to soil this lovely piece.” Then Webster turned back to the Senator. “If you’ll give Victor your keys, he’ll put the tapestry in your trunk?” The Senator did so.
Victor, carrying the rolled tapestry under his arm, walked out first and opened the trunk.
When the others got outside and walked to the back of the senator’s Cadillac, they saw that the plastic liner was large enough that it filled the trunk and wrapped out over the sides and front of the trunk.
The senator also noticed that the tapestry lay on the ceramic circle drive. When he turned toward Webster with a puzzled expression, Victor pushed the Senator into the trunk.
“What the hell is this all about?” demanded Senator Abernathy. Then he saw the gun in Webster’s hand. “This is not funny. Not one damn bit.” The senator said while struggling to raise himself from the trunk.
Webster stepped closer to the old man and touched the gun barrel to his neck. “Stay where you are, Senator Abernathy.”
The senator released his grip on the trunk ledge, his behind sinking down inside, his feet sticking out into the air.
“Why?” the senator demanded, “after all I’ve done for you.”
“And I shall be eternally grateful. No member of congress has done more.”
“Then why? Why?”
“Once you’ve left the senate, you’ll get pushed for some book deal. And the juicier the content, the bigger the advance they’ll offer. You drink too much, and you talk too much when you drink, and I know better than anyone that you’ll do anything for money. There is simply no return for the risk of leaving you alive.”
Senator Abernathy sagged back in defeat.
Theresa Abernathy stepped up beside Webster. “Please. Let me.”
Webster handed the gun to the senator’s much younger and socially-graced trophy wife.
While this exchange had taken place, Victor had stepped back, drawn a gun himself, and moved into the shadow of the cover of the portico.
“What are you doing?” the senator screamed. “Why are you doing this, Theresa?”
“I’m going to shoot you, you son of a bitch.”
“Why?”
“I’m not going to live in some dusty Texas town. I’m going to stay right here. This is where I belong.”
“Then we’ll stay here, Peaches. We can live wherever you prefer. Our house here hasn’t sold yet. We’ll just take it off the market.”
“Not good enough. I want to watch you die. I want to do it. I want to watch your life drain from your decrepit body.”
“I’ve given you everything you ever wanted. More than you ever imagined.”
“Most of which having been made possible by our host, Mr. Alistair Webster. I will remain in D.C., the widow of the great Senator Abernathy, giving dinner parties and hosting charity events. You’re done with it. I’m not.”
“We can do all that. Together.”
“I suppose while you keep carrying on with your hookers. No. I’m through being humiliated.”
“None of that ever touched you. I kept it under wraps. I protected you from it.”
“You protected your own reputation is what you did. But everyone knew, and I carried the shame. The regular visits to the doctor to be sure I hadn’t gotten infected as a result of your fucking around. When you’re no longer a senator, the high caliber whores won’t bother with you. After that you’ll be reduced to cruising for street walkers. You’re nothing but a Texas alley cat.”
While the accusations and pleadings continued, Webster eased back to the porch next to Victor. When Theresa Abernathy turned and saw that Victor had a gun trained on her, Webster spoke.
“You know how I want this to play out, but it’s up to you. It’s time, my dear.”
She turned back to face her husband who had seemingly grown smaller in the trunk, sapped of his own pomposity.
Webster pressed a remote turning on the hidden security camera that filmed outwardly from his portico.