“That’s crazy,” Albert said. “Who’s going to believe that?”
“Some of it is true enough.” Finch took a small recorder from his coat pocket. “People will believe it because it explains everything nicely, and people like for things to make sense. And Herr Klein will make sure they do. He is investing over a billion dollars locally, and you are a fat, stupid, crooked ex-cop who works for a casino. The alternative is that Herr Klein will have Tug make the tape and blame you, which seems just as logical to me. All the denials you can muster won’t help you. One way or the other, Mulvane is going to take the rap. So is it going to be you or Tug in a cell with Mulvane?”
“I have a lot of money,” Albert said. “Let me go and it’s yours. Half a million dollars. Cash.”
“No, you don’t have that kind of money. Does old Albert here have any money, Gregory?”
The man who wasn’t aiming at Albert said, “We visited your home to look around and we found your twenty grand.”
“It’s nine hundred grand,” Albert growled.
“Nine or five, we only found twenty grand. Isn’t that right, Carl?” Steffan said.
The man with the gun nodded. “That’s right, Steffan.”
“Better for us. People will believe you took twenty from Mulvane for dirty favors,” Finch said. “Any more than that just complicates things. And Beals got what the cops found in his place for getting rid of troublesome individuals for you. It all works in more than one way.”
Sweat oozed from every pore in Albert’s large body.
“So,” Finch said holding out the recorder. “You choose. You have thirty seconds to begin your confession.”
Albert took the recorder and, shifting uncomfortably, promptly emptied his bowels.
“Nice,” Finch said. “Carl, roll down some windows.”
102
Winter sat watching hamp play a video game. To everyone’s great relief, Cyn had just sent a text message saying she would be home by ten P.M.
Seated on the floor with his legs crossed, the controller in his small hands, Hamp worked his fingers expertly, his eyes glued to the screen where muscular figures dressed in tight outfits traded punches and kicked at each other.
“Which one are you?” Winter asked.
“The white one,” Hamp replied. “The good wizard.”
Winter’s cell phone rang and he opened it, stood, and walked out of the room so he wouldn’t disturb Hamp.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Yeah, what?” Sean’s voice said.
“Yeah, hello, my dear.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I was sitting in a room with a child that reminds me of my son.”
“How’s it coming?”
“We’re winding down. We have a meeting in a little while to transfer some land that has already cost three lives.”
“Three?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you later.”
“What about you-know-who?”
“He who must not be named?” Winter said, infusing the joke with a joviality he didn’t feel.
“Yes.”
“Nothing but tracks,” he said truthfully.
“You’re being careful?”
“Of course I am. How’s Trammel doing?”
“Hank’s really proud of Faith Ann’s deer. He is getting the pictures blown up for the wall. Is Alexa with you?”
“Not at the moment. She had to go handle some Bureau politics.”
“The FBI getting involved?”
“No. It’s still a local matter.”
“I wish you were here,” Sean said. “I wish you were here in our bed with me. I could use some of that special Massey attention.”
“I’ll bring you a few pounds of that when I get this done. Word of honor.”
“Should I worry?”
“No, you definitely should not.”
Winter heard Olivia crying in the background.
“I have to go. Sleeping Beauty is awake. Call me in the morning?”
“Of course I will.”
“Massey, you know what?”
“No, what?” he asked, smiling.
“When you get back, I’m going to show you what.”
“I love you, Sean,” he said. “Tell the gang I said I love them.”
“Even Hank?”
“Don’t tell him.”
Winter closed the phone after Sean broke the connection. He formed a picture in his mind of Hank and Millie Trammel and felt his eyes narrow into slits, as he pictured them run down and shattered in that rain-soaked New Orleans street.
Winter looked over his shoulder and what he saw stopped him cold. There through the partly opened kitchen door Winter was treated to a view of Brad and Leigh. They were embracing, her head against his chest. As he watched, Leigh leaned back, looked up, and instead of stepping back, as Winter expected, the two looked into each other’s eyes and put their lips together.
When their kiss finally ended, they tightened their embrace, and when Leigh opened her eyes, they met Winter’s and enlarged in the same sort of embarrassment that one might expect from a teenager caught singing to her reflection in a mirror. He wondered, as he turned away, if she’d seen the same expression on his face.
103
As soon as Roy Bishop and another deputy arrived to stay at the house with Estelle and Hampton, Winter, Leigh, and Brad prepared to leave. Four other armed deputies would caravan to the casino and wait until Leigh’s business was concluded, then stick with them until the papers were signed. Billy Lyons was going to meet them at the casino at nine o’clock to make sure the documents were legally binding and correctly signed.
Before the trio filed out of the house, Leigh embraced her son and told him to mind Estelle and the deputies. He agreed easily. All Hampton and Estelle knew was that Leigh was going with Winter and Brad to a business meeting.
Brad drove them in Winter’s Jeep since it was being monitored. They’d decided they wanted the cutouts to know if Styer made an attempt on Winter.
The drive to the casino was uneventful. Winter wondered if Brad knew he’d seen the couple kissing in the kitchen. He supposed Leigh might have said something to him, although he didn’t act any differently than before.
Winter couldn’t help but wonder if this trouble had broken down the icy wall between them. As far as Winter could tell, the years they were apart had been unnecessary, due to their youth and misunderstanding. He supposed that Leigh’s stubbornness had played a big part in their lengthy split. It was Winter’s experience that successful relationships depended on open communication, mutual respect, and forgiveness, but he figured they understood that now.
At the casino, the cruisers parked and the deputies stepped out to their assigned posts, where they would await further orders. Billy Lyons waited under the portico, briefcase in hand.
Leigh’s cell phone rang and she looked at the caller ID. “It’s Cyn!”
She flipped open the phone. “Cyn, where are you?”
She listened for a few seconds.
“That’s great. We’ll see you later at the house and you can tell us all about it.” She hung up and smiled.
“She’s being dropped off at a public place as soon as the deal is done,” Leigh said. She wiped a tear from her eye. “She’s fine.”
“Did she say where she was?” Brad asked. “Who had her?”