“I know it was him,” Roland said dourly. “The mole says Haskell and Bowie had a heated telephone conversation, during which Haskell tells his boss that he’d been in New Orleans last night. Ran into some trouble, got cut with a switchblade, and—here’s the worst part—he gave Bowie a description of El Paso. A sketchy one, but still.”
“Did he mention the restaurant?”
“No. But Bowie is going to phone in El Paso’s description to NOPD. They may put it together with the attacks on the other homeless. Which is why we need to make El Paso disappear, so his connection to me can never be proved. He won’t exist. Nobody even knows his real name.”
Oz thought on it for a time, then said, “I had an intuition. There was something off about that homeless man. It worried me all night. You think he sent his therapist to the restaurant to act as his scout?”
Roland said, “That’s why I interrupted your workout. There was a lot of bad mojo in the air last night. Soon as I signed off with my mole, I put on my bathrobe, went downstairs to the maître d’s stand, and looked at last night’s reservations.
“Eight o’clock. ‘Mr. Malone’s guest.’ No name. She must’ve called in the reservation, made out like I had invited her, and I played right into her soft, dainty hands. Great legs, too.”
“Forget her legs. Have you confirmed that this babewasDr. Reede?”
“I have. I went through the car company. I called and told them their fare had left a pricey scarf in the restaurant, toldthem I needed her name and contact info so I could make arrangements to get it back to her. Dylan Reede. I got her home address and cell number.
“I’ve called it several times. I was going to admit to calling the car company to get her name. Act like I was smitten, you know. But I didn’t have to put on an act because she’s not answering. Phone goes straight to voice mail. So I guess she and Haskell are making cozy somewhere. I wish El Paso had gutted the bastard like he bragged of doing.”
He sighed with self-deprecation. “I thought she was an expensive call girl, or some gal with an itch and looking for action. But Mitch Haskell’s shrink? Fuckin’ unbelievable.
“One good thing, though,” he continued in a more upbeat tone. “She didn’t do anything suspicious while she was in the restaurant. I got the waiter in here, grilled him good. Had she used her phone? Taken pictures, anything like that? He swears not, and I believe him because she was his only table and he’d been told to be at her beck and call. He said she didn’t even go to the powder room.” He paused before concluding. “So, that’s where we are.”
Oz went into one of his think-tank cycles. Roland turned his ring ’round and ’round and said several rapid-fire Hail Marys.
“Haskell was supposed to be a drunken burnout,” Oz said at last. “Turns out he’s still clever as a fox. Why would he be watching you?”
“The mole says he had a notion about Bayou Coeur.”
“Nothing about his wife?”
“No. No way he could know about that.” There was a stretch of silence, then Roland said, “All we gotta do is make El Paso disappear. Then what’s Haskell got? Nothing. I’ll take care of that cocky kid tonight. No reason for you to be there. WhichI thought was a bad idea anyway. The more distance you keep, the better.”
“I agree. I didn’t want any wrinkles this week.”
“When do you expect the haul from Mexico? You said end of the week. This is Friday.”
“Last report, the trucks were somewhere in East Texas.”
“All good?”
“All good.”
Roland chuckled. “That’s good mojo.”
Oz must not have seen the humor. He was mapping out his day. “I’ll finish up here, get my pedi, then put in an appearance at the office and congratulate the rank and file on the excellent work they’re doing.
“Tonight, while you’re handling the screwup, I’ll have a quiet dinner at home… while I plot how we’re going to get rid of Haskell. I’d like there to be as little muss and fuss as possible.”
“I’ve been giving it some thought.”
“Think about the shrink, too. No telling what Haskell’s told her. She should go.”
“Yes.” Roland wanted to stand and cheer. He was mentally giving himself a fist bump. Dylan had made a fool of him. She knew how much he feared the fires of hell. She’d be screaming in terror of them by the time he got through with her.
“Any idea where they could be hiding?”
Oz’s question drew him out of his gruesome fantasy. “No, but I told my mole to make it a priority to find out. ASAP.”
“Is this plant reliable?”
