“Mucho gracious,” Travis mumbled. It hurt to talk. “Where’s Curran?”
“Taking care of Moroconi. How are you?”
“I’ve been better. Can you get this big lug off me?”
Cavanaugh bent down and rolled Kramer off Travis’s stomach. Travis tried to help, but the strain was too much. He fell back to the ground, groaning.
“Oh God, Travis. You’re really hurt, aren’t you?” She put her hand behind his neck. “Are you going to be all right? Are you bleeding?”
“I don’t think so. Except maybe internally. I think he cracked a rib.”
“God. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
Travis grunted, doing his best to speak coherently. “Not your fault.”
She took his hands and held them against her cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Travis.”
He tried to smile. “Neither do I.” After a moment he added, “I don’t want anything to happen to you, either. Laverne.”
She began kissing his face, then his neck, at first lightly, then less so. Despite the fire burning in his chest, he found it quite enjoyable.
75
11:55 P.M.
HENDERSON—THE REAL ONE—finished wrapping a tight bandage around Travis’s chest. Not an easy feat in the backseat of Henderson’s sedan—while it was moving fast. Very fast.
“I think you should go to the hospital.”
“Later,” Travis said, wincing. “After I’ve found Staci.”
“You should’ve ridden in the ambulance with Kramer and Janicek,” Cavanaugh said, wringing her hands. “That would be a hell of a result—Kramer lives and you die.”
“I’m not hurt that much,” Travis said, hoping someone would believe him. He certainly didn’t. “And it shouldn’t take too long.”
“At least let me go with you,” Henderson insisted.
“No. He’ll kill her if he sees you.”
“Believe me, I know how to keep a low profile. I followed Janicek here, once I got Simpson to spill his guts. He never had the slightest idea I was following him.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no. I won’t risk Staci’s life. I’ll check in with you as soon as I’m done.”
“Don’t check in with me. Check in with the hospital. I’m not at all sure your ribs are going to survive this.”
Travis ignored him. “I’ll be okay. It won’t take long.”
“I still don’t understand why you aren’t going to Moroconi’s old motel room,” Cavanaugh asked.
“That’s where the goons hired to kill me will be, but that’s not where Staci is.”
Cavanaugh nodded, then held out his gun. “Don’t forget this. You might need it.”
Travis took it from her wordlessly. Yeah, he thought, I might need it. But will I be able to use it?
A few seconds before midnight Travis stood on the front steps of an elegant Tudor-style home in the fashionable part of Plano. He rang the bell, but no one answered. Of course, he mused, given the size of the house, it might take ten minutes for someone to make it to the door.
But he couldn’t wait. He felt exposed, standing out in the open like this. When no one came to the door, he tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.
He entered the foyer. The decor was impeccable. Heavy on the burgundies and mahoganies. Suits of armor, Victorian-era antiques. A man’s house, decorated to a man’s taste.
As Travis should know. He’d been here several times before. For dinner.
Travis heard footsteps approaching from the living room. He entered the room and waited. A few moments later a rear door opened and Dan Holyfield walked in.
“Travis! My God, it’s you!” His face was the picture of concern. “What are you doing here? Are you still in danger? Why didn’t you come to the office?”
“The office is being watched. Or was, anyway. Not to mention bugged.”
Dan appeared horrified. “Are you certain?”
Travis nodded.
“At least you managed to get here safely. You can relax now, Travis. I’ll take care of everything. I still think you should turn yourself in, but don’t worry. I’ll be behind you all the way, with every penny at my disposal. I won’t rest until you’re cleared of all charges.”
Travis smiled thinly. “Don’t bother, Dan. I have a new friend at the FBI who has already begun the process of clearing my name and getting the charges dropped. I imagine it’ll be a lot easier for him than it would be for you.”
Dan appeared relieved. “Well, that’s great, Travis. Splendid. Come into the office Monday morning and we’ll talk over this whole situation. We need to sit down and plan out your future. See where you go from here. Frankly, I think it’s about time I made you a partner in the firm. Just come in Monday and we’ll thrash out all the details.”
Travis shook his head. “The office is too public for what I want to do.”
“I don’t understand. What is it you want to do?”
Travis seated himself in a comfortable upright armchair. “Give it up, Dan. I know almost everything. And I think I can deduce the rest.”
“Deduce …? I’m sorry, Travis, but you’ve absolutely lost me.”
“What do you take me for?” A trace of anger tinged Travis’s voice. “Did you think I would never figure it out? Hell, you just reminded me yourself the other day.”
“Reminded you of what?”
“Of your small family corporation. The one to which you now devote the majority of your time. The corporation founded by your parents, Elsie and Conrad. Hence the name—Elcon.”
The pleasant expression drained away from Dan’s face. “What do you know about Elcon?”
“I know you were bought out by the mob. Excuse me, I guess technically it was a merger. Forgive me if I don’t get all the legal nuances just right. I’m not a corporate lawyer.”
Dan’s eyes lowered. “You have to understand what happened, Travis. I had no idea those men were connected to the Gattuso mob. They met me in business suits, ties—they looked just like the men you and I work with every day of the week. I had no reason to be suspicious.”
“Did you check up on them? Complete a due diligence?”
Dan sighed. “Perhaps I jumped too quickly. The deal they offered me—it was everything I’d hoped for. I wanted to slow down, to get out of the grind of practicing law day in and day out. I’m almost sixty years old, and when a man reaches that age, he starts to think about retirement. And how he’s going to pay the bills during his retirement.”
“Pity you didn’t stick with Social Security.”
Dan made a snorting sound. “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t want to live in squalor and poverty.” He gestured about the room. “Look at this place. Do you have any idea what it takes to maintain it? Do you have any idea what it takes to run it for a year? Social Security wouldn’t pay for that chair you’re sitting in.”
“So you decided to sell out to a bunch of mobsters looking for a place to launder their loot.”
Dan drew himself erect. “I told you, I had no idea they were connected with the Gattuso mob.” His voice grew quieter. “At first. After a while … well, strange things began to happen. Inexplicably large amounts of money started pouring into the corporate coffers, money that wasn’t tied to any of Elcon’s business activities. And when I asked them about it, they told me to sit back and enjoy the ride. That’s when I began to suspect that … they were something other than legitimate businessmen.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I thought about it, Travis. I really did. But somehow … I don’t know.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Perhaps I’m just not as strong as I’d like to be. Somehow, I never made the call.”
“They bought you off,” Travis said. “And now they own you.”
Dan didn’t bother with a denial. “It would be difficult now … after all these years … to claim that I didn’t know what was going on …”