Wolfe paused. “What the hell is Roscoe still doing here? I told Dana to take him with her.”
“Guess she’s not the obedient type,” Force returned.
Oh, that was going to change. Wolfe scooped Kat up from the top of his desk. “It’s too hot to wear a jacket, buddy, so there’s no pocket for you to ride in.” He set the kitten on his shoulder.
His older burner phone buzzed from his back. He stiffened and pulled it out, giving a nod to Force.
Force’s eyes lit with interest.
Wolfe set the phone on his desk and pressed the speaker button. “Gary. I thought we were done.”
Silence crackled for a couple of moments. “As did I, my friend. Imagine my surprise at seeing you show up at Mr. Frank Spanek’s residence.”
Nails scraped over Wolfe’s skin. Had there been a camera in Frank’s apartment? He hadn’t had time to conduct a thorough search before the bomb had detonated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maybe Gary was just on a fishing expedition.
“Yeah, you do. I have to tell you, the blue hat wasn’t for you.”
Damn. Wolfe had been wearing a blue baseball cap. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Who was your friend? His face was hidden by a cap, too.” Gary’s background was silent as usual, giving no clue as to his whereabouts.
“I don’t have any friends,” Wolfe retorted, jerking his head when the kitten sneezed in his ear.
Gary chuckled. “Oh, I’m your friend. So is Dana. How is the lovely Dana?”
“You’re not my friend.” Wolfe eyed Force, who motioned for him to keep Gary talking. “With both Nelson and Spanek dead, you’re going to have a difficult time moving the heroin, right? It was a mistake to take them both out.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Gary drawled.
Wolfe ground his back teeth together. “You know the entire government is looking for you, right? They have been since the fiasco in Afghanistan. Some pretty powerful people are not happy you tried to blow up a nice country club.”
“I’m pretty good at staying under the radar,” Gary said, sounding unconcerned.
Wolfe’s ribs ached, and his temper threatened to blow. “I wish you had the balls to meet up with me. Just the two of us.”
“What fun would that be? Death should be slow and erotic.” There was a shuffling sound as Gary apparently moved around.
Wolfe angled his head, trying to hear better. There had to be background noise somewhere. The more he got Gary to talk, the better Force could profile him. Images of the crime scene wouldn’t leave him alone, so he went in that direction. “Was death slow and erotic for the woman in Frank’s apartment?”
“It was beautiful,” Gary breathed. “She wasn’t as tough as the journalist, but she made it worth my time.”
Wolfe scrubbed his hands across his eyes. “There was a lot of blood. How did you keep them quiet?”
Gary was quiet as if remembering. “Gags do wonders. Frank didn’t take long, so he didn’t get a chance to make too much noise. The woman? Well, now. She didn’t seem to enjoy the gag as much as I did.”
Wolfe wanted to hurl. “Who was the woman?” As far as he knew, the police hadn’t made an identification yet.
“She worked with Frank and her name started with a B. Or maybe a P. Her name didn’t really matter to me.”
Wolfe wanted to reach through the phone and rip out Gary’s jugular. “Tell me you have some regret for killing them. For killing our team, the men who trusted you.”
Gary clicked his tongue. “Wolfe, you just don’t get it. I’m going to have fun with Dana, a lot of it, and I’m not going to have a touch of regret there, either.” He ended the call.
Wolfe turned fully toward Force, fire in his belly, yet careful not to dislodge the kitten. “Well?”
Force slowly nodded. “Yeah. He’s ape-shit crazy.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
