“Yeah, you lost out on a ridiculous amount of money, but what about your buddies? Rogers is dead. Eustace is chewing through thousands of dollars trying to get his ass out of a sling.” With any luck, Lady Justice would say,“Hell the fuck no.”
“Collateral damage. That wasn’t my doing,” Landry said, keeping the gun trained on Lucky. “Besides, they weren’t following my orders. Not that you’d believe anything I said right now.”
“A man holding a gun on you doesn’t really inspire trust.”
“I need you to listen.” Landry shrugged. “This is the only way I knew to get you to shut up long enough to hear all I have to say.”
Had Landry really orchestrated this whole thing to kill Lucky, or clear his own name? Not that anyone could. The hole Landry dug for himself might require a ladder to climb out of.
Get tired, Landry, have a nice sit down in my chair. Lean back… The Hell Bitch would have him on the floor in a split second.
No such luck.
“Not here.” Landry picked up Lucky’s Sig and motioned Lucky down the hall. “In the conference room. Oh, and don’t hold your breath on your friends arriving. I disabled the elevator and locked down the stairwells.” He waved to the laptop on Lucky’s desk, one marked, “IT Department.” Yeah, Rookie Rogers must’ve taught him a thing or two.
Lockdown? They hadn’t had a lockdown drill in ages, used in the event of an active shooter. Who knew the doors still worked like that? How had Landry gotten a code? Oh, yeah. O’Donoghue.
And Rogers.
Even so, Landry got past all their security. What the hell?
Part of the department’s job was to evaluate security for pharmaceutical companies. Looked like they needed to clean their own house first.
Good thing the conference room showed up in Keith’s cameras. Hopefully. Unless he’d lost this camera too.
Lucky’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Bo or Johnson, more than likely. Lucky and Landry weren’t exactly quiet. O’Donoghue must’ve heard them by now. What was going on in Walter’s office?
Keeping a table between them topped the list of Lucky’s current priorities, and he stayed close to the door while Landry continued on.
“What did Jameson tell you about me and the guys?” Landry leaned casually against the wall by a bank of windows, expression earnest. He placed Lucky’s gun on the table.
What exactly had O’Donoghue said? How was Lucky supposed to remember something from months ago? Hell, he’d slept since then. “Nothing much. He apologized for not believing me when I complained about you.”
No mistaking Landry’s wince. He shook his head and gave a hoarse laugh. “That’s Jameson all right. Playing both ends against the middle until the end.”
Lucky agreed, but didn’t say so.
Landry’s grip on the .38 didn’t waver. So far, he’d only talked. If his goal was to kill Lucky, he’d have done so by now. He had to know others were watching, unless he’d managed to take all the cameras down. Had he lost his mind completely?
Voice low, Landry said, “I don’t know how deep Jameson’s plans went, but I know taking over from Walter Smith was a key part. Pissed him off getting passed over for Schollenberger.”
Oh, yeah. One of the happier moments in Lucky’s life: watching O’Donoghue not get what he wanted. For a time. “He stamped his feet and shoved Bo back to being an agent working out of a cube.” Or he would if nobody stopped him.
No love lost between Landry and his former boss, based on Landry’s scowl. “He would. You see, as I’d said on the video, he’d promised Gregory Rogers the position of head of Surveillance.”
“That’s Keith’s job. He might be an asshole, but he’s got a decent record. Unless he got promoted or something, you’d have no reason to replace him.” Not that Lucky would shed tears about Keith moving out of the department, but Rogers would have been worse: an assholeandincompetent.
Landry cocked his head to the side but said nothing.
The light bulb came on for Lucky. “Oh.” Really? They’d go far enough to murder Keith? He recalled Johnson and Salters’ report on other offices. Heart attacks. Getting run over by cars. Folks in the Southwestern and Southeastern bureaus weren’t above taking extreme measures as a career move.
Stakes in this game must be higher than Lucky ever imagined.
Inch by inch, he crept toward the door. If he could just make it to the stairs. The doors might lock others out, but they’d still open from this side, right? Good ole safety regulations.
“Yes. Oh, and Philip was going to step into Jameson’s role. As trainer.” Which meant only one person had to die to make the delusion reality, because they’d chosen to shove Lucky out the door. Lucky didn’t like Keith, but wouldn’t wish him dead.
“Who interfered with cases, got charges dropped, lost evidence?”
