Jeff Abbott - Cut and Run

‘A friend of mine… his mother had not been in touch with him for many years. Harry thought a woman working for the Bellinis was my friend’s mom.’

‘Gomez is attacking this case from every angle Doyle brings to it, not from anything to do with the Bellini family. You better talk to him.’

‘Yes,’ Claudia said, her stomach twisting, the smell of the barbecue suddenly making her queasy. ‘I think I better.’

‘The Bellinis?’ Arturo Gomez said. ‘You got any proof?’ They stood on the lawn of Richard Doyle’s ex-wife’s house, where Gomez had been questioning her about Doyle’s acquaintances and where he agreed to meet Claudia and Vernetta.

‘No,’ Claudia said. Gomez was immaculately groomed in a gray suit, haircut no older than two days and still styled as though he’d just left the salon. Fortyish, ready to make the career leapfrog from investigator to executive and a shade impatient.

‘Maybe the Bellinis lent him money,’ Vernetta said.

‘I’ve got two detectives and an accountant going through Doyle’s finances. So far we’ve found he owes money to at least three small-scale loan sharks who hang at the racetracks and at the Biloxi casinos. But no one we can connect to the Bellini family.’ He laughed. ‘It hasn’t exactly occurred to anyone. They keep their noses clean.’

‘Perhaps Doyle used the small sharks for his gambling loans, and the Bellinis for bigger amounts,’ Claudia said.

‘How big is Port Leo?’ Gomez said, not unkindly. ‘You deal with a lot of loan sharking down there between the shrimpers and the retirees?’

‘Claudia bagged a serial killer,’ Vernetta said. ‘You got one on your wall, Art?’

Gomez cleared his throat.

‘Vernetta, don’t,’ Claudia said. ‘Harry was looking for Eve Michaels, and he ended up with Richard Doyle. There has to be a connection.’

‘True enough,’ Gomez said. ‘This friend of yours. I want to talk to him. Now.’

They heard the slow click of the back door shutting.

Whit moved through the den to the window that faced onto the backyard. No sign of Charlie’s car in the little curve of driveway. Whit glanced at his mother; she pulled her Beretta from her purse, leveled it at the den’s opening. She shook her head and mouthed the words get down, jerked her head at the couch. Telling him to take cover. He stayed right where he was.

No way that anyone had followed him, not with the chaos of Gooch rescuing him. Unless Gooch broke. Unless he talked.

‘Eve?’ a voice called. ‘Are you here?’ Not Charlie’s voice. Velvety.

She aimed the gun at the door. Whit moved quietly next to her.

‘It’s Frank. I’m alone. Paul, Bucks, nobody knows I’m here.’

Eve glanced at Whit. The gun shook slightly in her hand.

‘I’m coming in. My hands are up. I’m unarmed. I’ve got news about your friend.’ And with that a man stepped into the opening of the den, arms up, fingers spread in high five, open palms, one hand bandaged. He was pale and frowning.

It was the man who had watched Whit from the upstairs window when he jumped from the roof.

‘Eve, baby.’ He glanced over at Whit, then back at Eve. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’

‘How did you find us?’ Eve asked. Her voice was jagged. Not happy.

‘Your friend’s cell phone. I took it without Bucks knowing. It had a call to this number in the call log section. I got a reverse directory on the Internet, I found the address.’ He stared at Whit. ‘Hi. I’m Frank Polo. I’m Eve’s boyfriend.’ He wiggled fingers in a wave.

‘That’s up for discussion,’ Eve said.

‘I’m here to help you, sweetheart. What would Bucks and Paul do to me if I knew where you were and didn’t tell them?’

‘Shut up, Frank. Check him for a gun,’ Eve said. Whit patted Frank down. No gun, no knife, just the paunch of soft flesh under the silky shirt and black slacks.

‘Nothing,’ Whit said.

She lowered the gun. Frank stepped forward. She brought the gun back up.

‘Baby, baby,’ he said quietly and she put the gun down. Frank embraced her, and she stiffened, then sagged against him. She started to cry, then shook her head and wiped the tears away. Frank kissed her forehead, held her, murmured, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ again and again. He looked at Whit.

‘Is your name Whitman Mosley?’ Frank asked.

‘You don’t need to worry about his name,’ Eve said. She stepped away from Frank, wiping at her nose, her eyes.

Frank glanced at Eve’s face, then Whit’s, then Eve’s again. ‘Okay, whatever.’

‘Where’s Gooch?’ Eve said. ‘Our friend.’

‘Bucks has him. They’ve moved him to the house on Lazy Lane. It’s the most secure.’

‘Is he hurt?’ Whit asked.

‘He got a real bad whack on the head. Unconscious but they had our doctor look at him. Bucks wanted to get Gooch moved and get Paul’s mom out of the house. Paul’s sending her to Vegas for the weekend with a friend before they start rough on Gooch to get him to talk.’ Frank paused. ‘Everyone’s believing that Eve stole the money.’

She hit his shoulder, once, twice. ‘Sure they are, thanks to your damned skimming. How could you, Frank, and how could you be so dumb?’

‘I messed up, so I’m here to help you out of this,’ Frank said. He held up his bandaged hand. ‘They’ve already been at me. I can tell you exactly what they’re doing, what they’re planning, so you can get away.’ He took her hand and Whit saw her fingers close around his.

‘What’s your plan?’ Whit said.

‘Before I start sharing my brilliance,’ Frank said, ‘I’d like to know exactly what role you play.’

‘I’m helping Eve,’ Whit said. ‘That’s all you need to know.’

‘You’re the problem,’ Frank said. ‘Bucks and Paul know you got new friends, Eve. That doesn’t mesh well with the money being gone.’

‘You must care about her,’ Whit said, ‘since you’re here at considerable risk.’

‘Considerable ain’t the half of it,’ Frank said. ‘Eve. You’re never gonna convince them you didn’t take the money. So you got to turn. Go into Witness Security. Call the FBI, offer them Bucks and Paul.’

Eve shook her head. ‘You know what happened to Gene O’Brien. And Lydia Mancini. They went into WitSec and they still made the hit parade.’

‘They also were stupid as mules, calling friends in old neighborhoods,’ Frank said. ‘They let a trail be created back to them. You won’t. What else you gonna do?’

‘If I had that five million, I could vanish on my own terms. Anywhere in the world,’ Eve said. Whit shook his head.

‘Bucks ain’t leaving it around to be found or mouthing off about how smart he is,’ Frank said. ‘Was this the idea behind hiding the voice recorders? We found one in the kitchen. But they’re tearing the house apart. Max already found three.’

Three was all Whit had hidden. He wanted to sit down badly.

Frank looked again at Whit. ‘This is bugging me. You look like Eve. What the hell’s going on here?’

‘He doesn’t look like me, don’t be an idiot,’ Eve said.

Frank sat down on the ottoman in front of a heavy leather chair, put his face in his hands. ‘Okay, if you won’t cut a deal with the cops, my idea is tell Kiko that Bucks stole the money, that Paul is breaking the deal. It’s supposed to close tomorrow night. Kiko then comes after Bucks and Paul, guns blazing.’

‘Or Kiko finds another buyer?’ Whit said.

‘Sure. That’s gonna dry up revenue for Paul, gonna hurt him bad. Real bad.’

‘Why should Kiko talk to me?’ Eve said.

Frank cleared his throat. ‘Because if they all think you’re gonna turn to the Feds, you’re as much a threat to Kiko as you are to Paul. You can finger him as having been in on the deal. That’s real leverage.’ He tapped at his forehead, gave Whit a crooked smile. ‘No one thinks I have one of these. But I do. Eve wouldn’t have given me the time of day if I was dumb as a stump.’