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The Killing Dance :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 34 из 285The message light was blinking, but it wasn't my machine, so I didn't check it.
Richard came into the kitchen. His hair fell around his shoulders in tight, foaming waves, curlier from the French braid. His hair was brown, but light of almost any kind brought out golden highlights, hints of bronze. He was wearing a flannel shirt, forest green, with the sleeves rolled above his elbows, showing the fine muscles in his forearms. I'd seen the shirt before. It was high-quality flannel, soft as a blanket to touch. He had on jeans and no socks. He padded barefoot towards me.
The phone rang. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning. Who else could it be but Edward? "I' m expecting a call," I said.
"Help yourself."
I picked it up, and it was Edward. "What happened?" he asked.
I told him.
"Somebody wants you dead quick."
"Yeah. When you said no, they went out and bought some cheap local talent."
"You get what you pay for," Edward said.
"If there'd been two of them, Edward, I wouldn't be here."
"You aren't going to like my news."
"How much worse could it get?" I asked.
"I answered a message just before yours. They upped the offer to five hundred thousand dollars, if you were dead within twenty-four hours."
"Sweet Jesus, Edward, I'm not worth that kind of money."
"They knew you blew away their hitter, Anita. They knew the hit had failed."
"How?" I asked.
"I don't know yet. I'm trying to find out who's putting up the money, but it'll take a little time. The safeguards that keep me out of it protect the client, too."
I was shaking my head back and forth. "Why twenty-four hours for the hit?"
"Something's happening that they want you out of the way for, something big."
"But what?"
"You know what it is, Anita. You may not be aware that you know, but you do. Something worth this kind of money that you could put a stop to. There can't be that many choices."
"I can't think of a single thing, Edward."
"Think harder," he said. "I'll be there as early as I can tomorrow. Watch your back. Don't drive your car."
"Why not?"
"Bombs," he said.
"Bombs," I repeated.
"For half a million dollars, Anita, they'll get someone good. A lot of professionals will do you from a nice, safe distance. A bomb, a high-powered rifle."
"You're scaring me," I said.
"Good, maybe you'll be careful."
"I'm always careful, Edward."
"I apologize. You're right, but be more careful.
Richard came into the kitchen. His hair fell around his shoulders in tight, foaming waves, curlier from the French braid. His hair was brown, but light of almost any kind brought out golden highlights, hints of bronze. He was wearing a flannel shirt, forest green, with the sleeves rolled above his elbows, showing the fine muscles in his forearms. I'd seen the shirt before. It was high-quality flannel, soft as a blanket to touch. He had on jeans and no socks. He padded barefoot towards me.
The phone rang. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning. Who else could it be but Edward? "I' m expecting a call," I said.
"Help yourself."
I picked it up, and it was Edward. "What happened?" he asked.
I told him.
"Somebody wants you dead quick."
"Yeah. When you said no, they went out and bought some cheap local talent."
"You get what you pay for," Edward said.
"If there'd been two of them, Edward, I wouldn't be here."
"You aren't going to like my news."
"How much worse could it get?" I asked.
"I answered a message just before yours. They upped the offer to five hundred thousand dollars, if you were dead within twenty-four hours."
"Sweet Jesus, Edward, I'm not worth that kind of money."
"They knew you blew away their hitter, Anita. They knew the hit had failed."
"How?" I asked.
"I don't know yet. I'm trying to find out who's putting up the money, but it'll take a little time. The safeguards that keep me out of it protect the client, too."
I was shaking my head back and forth. "Why twenty-four hours for the hit?"
"Something's happening that they want you out of the way for, something big."
"But what?"
"You know what it is, Anita. You may not be aware that you know, but you do. Something worth this kind of money that you could put a stop to. There can't be that many choices."
"I can't think of a single thing, Edward."
"Think harder," he said. "I'll be there as early as I can tomorrow. Watch your back. Don't drive your car."
"Why not?"
"Bombs," he said.
"Bombs," I repeated.
"For half a million dollars, Anita, they'll get someone good. A lot of professionals will do you from a nice, safe distance. A bomb, a high-powered rifle."
"You're scaring me," I said.
"Good, maybe you'll be careful."
"I'm always careful, Edward."
"I apologize. You're right, but be more careful.