could, as if he could outrun any of it. His lovely wife and their three wonderful children. A nice house, a job he enjoyed and was very good at. His life was filled with things he had always wanted to have. And with one thing he had never wanted to face. It didn’t seem fair really. Yet how in the world could he stop? It had been beaten into his head ever since he could remember. It had become more a part of him than anything else, even more than his role as husband and father. And that was the only thing in all of this that truly scared him.
Finn hid his hands under the covers and tried to sleep.
CHAPTER 15
“BAGGER GOT TO TONY,” Annabelle said. She hadn’t slept all night and had called her former partner Leo Richter at the crack of dawn. She had no idea what time zone he was even in and didn’t really care.
On the other end of the phone Leo sat up straight and felt his last meal start to come up on him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Tony screwed up. Flashed the cash and Bagger tracked him down. Bagger killed three people and left Tony for dead after turning his brains to mush.”
“Well you can bet the little weasel ratted us out, then. Why can’t somebody just kill Bagger? Is it that hard?”
Annabelle said, “What if Tony found out my last name? You told Freddy, maybe Freddy told Tony. Or the kid might’ve overheard.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Annabelle. We both might be screwed regardless. There are only so many Annabelles and Leos in the con world who operate at that level.”
“If you know where Freddy is you might want to warn him.”
“I’ll do my best. Look, you want me to hook up with you? Try to get us out of this mess?”
“And make it easier for Jerry to bag two for the price of one? Just stay where you are, Leo, and dig as deep as you can.” She clicked off the phone and sat back on her bed. Maybe she should put her millions to work for her right now. Just use it to run like hell. Private plane, private island, plenty of guards. It sounded tempting, but her gut told her this would be like waving a flag in front of a bull. She was still pondering what to do when her phone rang. It was Oliver Stone.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said.
“I’m an early riser,” she lied.
“I have news. We can meet at my cottage later,” he said.
“Why don’t you come my way, Oliver,” she said. “We can have some breakfast. There’s a place around the corner from where I’m staying.” She gave him the address. Thirty minutes later they took a corner table in the back away from the other customers. After they ordered, he told Annabelle what he’d found out.
“I’m not sure how that helps,” she said, spooning sugar into her coffee.
“The best defense is a good offense. The government would love to nail him to a wall. If we can help them do that, I doubt he’d have time for you. Actually, if we can simply distract Bagger with a government investigation, that may be enough to keep you safe.”
Annabelle looked uncertain. “You don’t know Jerry. He has forty million reasons to devote every second of the remainder of his life to killing me.”
Stone nodded knowingly. “I do know Jerry, at least men like him. It’s not just about the money, of course. It’s about loss of face, of respect. He has to seem invincible to everyone. Otherwise he’s not Jerry Bagger.”
“You sized him up right away.”
“As I said, I’ve known many men like Bagger, even worked for some.”
She said cautiously, “So if we were going to go after Jerry how would we do it?”
“We have to find where he’s vulnerable. There’s the point of least resistance, of course. He killed three people in Portugal and put a fourth in a coma. If we can pin that on him he goes away forever.”
“I know he did it, but I have no proof. And if I go to the cops, I’ll have to explain everything, and then I don’t think they’ll be waiting to hand me a medal.”
“Or you could give your share of the money back to Bagger and hope that’s enough.”
“I earned that money, every last cent of it. And like you said, it’s not about the money. He’d still want to kill me.”
“But if we can tie Bagger to these crimes without you having to give testimony or being involved at all?”
“Well, that would just solve all my problems, wouldn’t it? Only I don’t quite see how that can work.”
“That’s for us to figure out.” Stone was about to say something else when his cell phone rang. It was Alex Ford and his voice was strained.
“Oliver, did you see Carter Gray last night?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What time did you get there and what time did you leave?”
Stone told him. “I’m sure the driver can verify that. What’s this all about?”
“I can’t believe you haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Somebody blew up Carter Gray’s house last night, with him in it. I know this is going to be awkward, but I think the FBI will want to talk to you about your meeting with Gray.”
Stone clicked off. The FBI will want to talk to me. About Gray.
Annabelle said sharply, “Trouble?”
“A little,” he said slowly as his thoughts raced ahead. “Maybe more than a little, actually.”
She tapped her coffee cup against his. “Welcome to the club.”
CHAPTER 16
OLIVER STONE STARED at the wall opposite him while the two thirty-something men in shirtsleeves with their guns and badges hanging on their black belts hovered around like vultures over roadkill. His voluntary appearance at the FBI’s Washington Field Office had not earned him any brownie points, even with Alex Ford of the Secret Service accompanying him to the interview. Alex had told the agents in charge of Carter Gray’s homicide investigation about Stone’s recent heroics in foiling an espionage ring. However, the agents had brushed that off.
One of them said to Alex, “I deal with murder and I got a big one hanging around my neck and a lot of pressure from upstairs to get results.” He plopped down in front of Stone at the small table.
“Now let’s try the name thing one more time. What’s yours?”
“Oliver Stone, like I told you the last four times you asked.”
“Let me see some ID.”
“And as I told you four times before, I don’t have any.”
The other agent said incredulously, “How does anybody in the twenty-first century not have ID?”
Stone looked at him, bemused. “I know who I am. And I don’t really care if no one else does.”
“So you came all the way down here to tell us what—nothing other than the fact that you’re apparently a famous film director who dresses like a bum?”
“Actually, I came down here to tell you that I visited Carter Gray at his home last night at his request. I arrived around nine and left about forty-five minutes later. He sent his driver for me. The man can certainly vouch for the fact that when I left, the house was still standing and the man inside that house was still alive.”
Alex interjected, “Have you talked to the driver?”
The two agents glanced at each other. One said to Stone, “What’d you two talk about?”
“It was private. I’m certain it had nothing to do with what happened to Mr. Gray.” Stone of course had every reason to believe that what Gray had told him about the other three men dying was very much tied to Gray’s death.
“I sense uncooperative behavior,” the same agent said.
His partner added, “And I sense an obstruction charge coming. You like to sit in a jail cell, Mr. Stone, while we run down who you really are?”
Stone said calmly, “If you believe you have enough to charge me then charge me. If you don’t I’m late for another appointment.”
“You’re a busy man are you, Mr. Stone?” one of the agents remarked sarcastically.
“I try to stay productive. But I’ll make a deal with you.”
?
??We don’t do deals.”