“That’s with the discount, Bradley.”
Billy was hanging up his coat and hat on hooks in the foyer when he saw Alexa standing in the doorway of the den.
“Hello, Billy Lyons,” Alexa said.
“Well, hello, Alexa Keen,” he said jovially. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Nice to see you, Billy,” she said. “Been a long time.”
“Are you still working for the man?”
“Yes,” she said.
Alexa had never cared much for Billy Lyons, but she was glad to see him now. It wasn’t that he was a show-off. He had developed his eccentricities early on to entertain his contemporaries and to separate himself from the crowd-especially his legal competition later in life. Alexa still held a slight grudge against him because he had once made people laugh by mocking her when she was a fifteen-year-old, mixed-race outcast who’d been shunned by both races in their high school. Billy had been close with Winter until she came along, and he had resented and not understood her friendship with Winter. That, as much as anything, had kept Billy and Alexa from becoming friends. But he was a friend of Winter’s, and she knew he had been a good and loyal one at that, and he was about to help them out in a big way.
Alexa stepped back as Winter led Billy into the den, where Leigh was staring at a picture of her children with a faraway look in her eyes. “Billy Lyons, this is Leigh Gardner,” Winter said.
“Nice to meet you, Leigh. Winter told me about your situation on the telephone,” Billy said, sitting in an armchair. “I’ve got most of it already prepared for your approval.”
Billy Lyons opened his briefcase and took out a laptop. After reading the document aloud, he listened to what Leigh had to say and added her suggestions to the legal document. He hooked up to Leigh’s computer, printed the document and Leigh signed it, as Alexa and Winter acted as witnesses. Using Leigh’s scanner and her Internet connection, he sent copies of the signed document to his office and to a judge pal in Jackson, Mississippi, storing a digital copy in his Yahoo e-mail folder.
“Now all I have to do is pop in at the courthouse on my way out of town and file this to make it official,” he said, slipping the original pages into his inside coat pocket before putting the coat on.
84
After Billy filed the papers at the courthouse, Winter had him drop him off at his Jeep. A white SUV-which Winter assumed was carrying cutouts-tailed him from town out to the Roundtable. Winter figured Tunica County was filled with cutouts.
He parked in the Roundtable’s lot. After putting on a ball cap and shades he walked to the entrance, joining the arriving gamblers. With any luck, he would get inside before he was spotted by security. Winter wanted to get to Kurt Klein before Mulvane or White got between them.
Winter walked onto the gaming floor and, unbelievably, spotted Kurt Klein seated at a three-card poker table next to the security man Winter had seen arriving with the wealthy silver-haired industrialist. While Klein gambled, the security man sat with a glass of water in his left hand.
Winter put his sunglasses into his pocket, walked straight up to the table, and took a seat beside Kurt Klein. The security man looked across Klein to stare at Winter.
“My name is Winter Massey,” he said.
Casually, Klein said, “I’m Kurt Klein. Nice to meet you.”
Klein placed a bet, looked at Winter for the first time, and smiled. He slid a stack of chips from his pile to rest in front of Winter. “Something to keep your hands busy?”
Winter pushed them back. “I’m not much with cards.”
The security man beside Klein nodded almost imperceptibly.
“This is Steffan Finch,” Klein said. “He works for me.”
Winter looked around and saw the two other security men who had arrived with Klein move forward, their hands behind their backs.
“I’m not armed,” Winter said, slowly drawing back his jacket so Finch could see the empty high-rise holster on his belt.
Kurt Klein won with a pair of kings. The dealer had jack high.
“Do you believe in luck?” he asked Winter.
“Sometimes luck is better than skill,” he answered. “It’s just not very dependable.”
“I never depend on luck,” Kurt Klein said, raking in the chips he’d won. “I bet you are more skilled than lucky yourself.”
Winter shrugged. “I’m careful when I can be.”
“So, Mr. Massey,” Kurt said. “Are you here because you want to test your luck?” He placed four chips in front of Winter. “Play a hand with me.”
Winter placed the chips Klein had given him into the bet box, and Klein made a large bet. They watched the dealer toss out the cards.
“I guess I’m all in,” Winter said.
Klein chuckled. “That appears to be the case.”
Winter had nothing, Klein had a pair, and the dealer a king high hand.
The dealer stacked black and yellow chips in front of Klein.
“Luck doesn’t seem to be on your side,” Klein said.
“Not with cards. Is there a place we can talk in private?”
“Let’s go upstairs,” Klein said, tipping the dealer a pair of black and yellow chips. A man dressed in an official Roundtable jacket and red tie picked up Klein’s winnings, stacked them onto a tray, and walked off.
“Accompany me to the elevator,” Kurt Klein said, standing. Winter stood and walked beside Klein.
Finch led the way, the two arm-breakers trailing behind him.
85
“ So,” Leigh Said, “if This Specific Individual didn’t have Cynthia, what would you be doing differently?”
“Every case is different,” Alexa said.
Leigh’s voice cracked with emotion as she spoke. “You must think I’m a terrible mother. Sherry just murdered and I let my daughter leave the house alone.”
“Beating yourself up is a normal reaction, but you didn’t know what was going on then,” Alexa told her. “She’s going to be fine.”
“I always let her do what she wants to do. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Is that your personal or professional opinion?”
“Both.”
“I know what you people think. If she’s dead, she’s dead. If she isn’t, she probably won’t be killed.”
“I didn’t say that,” Alexa said.
“Winter believes it. You’re saying you don’t think that’s the case?”
“Winter knows this man who has your daughter as well as anyone does.”
“The man is a professional murderer.”
“Yes, he is. But he doesn’t kill unless it works to his advantage. We should talk about something else.”
Leigh looked at the fire in the hearth. “How in God’s name can I talk about anything else? I can’t think of anything but Cynthia.”
“Please, try.”
“You and Winter both grew up in Cleveland.”
“We met in high school.”
“You were good friends?”
“We were best friends. I’ve never had a friend that came close to him.”
“Not more than friends?”
“Never lovers, if that’s what you mean. I was an outsider-a misfit. My parents were drug addicts. My sister and I were split up in foster care. Winter came along at a crucial time in my life, and he reached out to me. He saved my life. He lost friends over it and didn’t care at all. We had a lot in common. He married my best friend and roommate from college.” Alexa laughed. “I was his best man and her maid of honor.”
“Brad says he is very good at what he does.”
“He’s awesome at what he does. His instincts are truly amazing. He is one of the few people on earth I trust completely.” Leigh nodded, and there was a silence, after which Alexa said, “I understand you and Brad went together.”
Leigh’s eyes lit up. “We were engaged. We almost got married.”
“Tell me about it.”
Fifteen minutes later, as Leigh was smiling at Alexa with tears in her eyes, Brad came into the room.
“We were talking about high school,” Alexa said, grinning at Leigh, who blushed.