“Because she couldn’t reach you. She’s upset. They’re in the ER.”
Chapter 28
Three hundred sixty-five days a year, Allen Busby put himself through a punishing hour-long workout in his home’s sleek, high-tech gymnasium. He did aerobics, lifted weights, and kept flexible by finishing with yoga stretches. He was determined to stave off a middle-age belly and jowls.
Roland Malone knew all this. He also knew it was an unforgivable offense for that hour to be interrupted for any reason short of the mansion catching fire or a SWAT team closing in.
But this morning’s developments compelled Roland to break the rule. He called Oz shortly after eight o’clock when he would be roughly ten minutes into his workout.
His first two calls went unanswered. Oz answered the third, huffing and puffing, “Don’t tell me the trucks have been intercepted.”
“Not to my knowledge,” Roland said, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. He was still sour over Oz’s not telling him about the heist he’d pulled on the Caballeros until it was done.Of course, as evidenced by what he’d said when he answered the phone, the booty wasn’t yet in his possession and he was anxious over it.
Still huffing and puffing, Oz asked, “Then why did you interrupt my workout?”
“We should take care of El Paso tonight.” Roland heard the treadmill winding down. He had Oz’s attention.
“Why?”
He wasn’t going to use the word “niggles” with Oz, so, prior to making the call, he’d composed a spiel that would explain the necessity for El Paso’s removal sooner rather than later. It was the truth, slightly restructured.
He began, “I had a call from my mole in Auclair this morning. Haskell’s in deep dutch with Bowie. He’s doing some stuff that even Bowie thinks is freaky.”
“Like what?”
“Like stalking his therapist. This Dylan Reede, who turned out to be a woman. Remember, I told you?”
“I remember. You said it could be a good thing.”
“I may have been wrong about that. Haskell’s keeping close tabs on her. Claims it’s a guy thing, like he has the hots for her, and he might. But I think there may be more to it. The coincidence is just too convenient.”
“Stop beating around the fucking bush. What’s going on?”
“She had dinner here last night.”
“The therapist?”
Here came the restructured part. “I didn’t know it was her. At the time, I was sucking up to a Saints player and his mistress, but I see this good-looking gal come in. I mean a real stunner. She’s by herself. Maître d’ practically waltzes her to a table reserved for one. I assigned our best waiter to her and told himto treat her like royalty. I mean, here’s this babe, eating alone. I wanted to impress, you know?”
He paused for breath. So far, so good. Oz was listening, not interrupting. “She had a vodka martini, a glass of red, three courses. When her coffee was served, I went over, introduced myself as the owner of the place, and asked if I could join her. She smiled and motioned me into the chair. Five, ten minutes, we made small talk.
“I covered her check. She protested, but I insisted. It was her first time, yada yada, I wanted her to come back. I walked her out and offered my chauffeur to take her home. I mean, you never know. I could’ve got laid.
“Anyhow, she’d hired a car. We’re standing there waiting for it to pull up so she can get in, when El Paso jumps the guy in the median. You know the rest about that.”
“I thought I did. I thoughtyoudid.”
“Right,” Roland said. “So imagine my shock when I got a call this morning from my mole telling me that Haskell and his therapist have gone underground together. Bowie was beside himself when he learned that Haskell had sent a cop to her house last night to check out things.”
“Why did he do that? If Haskell was with her, he wouldn’t be sending someone to spy on her.”
“Exactly. Doesn’t fit. I asked myself: Who was Haskell expecting to show up at his therapist’s house in the middle of the night? That’s when I started piecing it together.”
“Piecing what together? You’re still talking in riddles.”
“Think about it,” Roland said. “It’s this doll’s first time to the restaurant. She comes alone in a hired car. There’s a ruckus involving a homeless man who El Paso had been eyeing for over an hour. Said the guy hadn’t moved a muscle in all the time he’dbeen sitting in the grass right across the street from the front door of my restaurant.”
“Jesus Christ. You think the man El Paso attacked was Haskell?”
