delivery dates.
Roger went to one of the
desks and rummaged in the top drawer. His hand came out holding a large
massaging vibrator with a fist sized head.
“I may have given you
the wrong idea,” I said.
He didn't even
acknowledge the remark, much less smile. He plugged the vibrator in and turned
it on, placing it on top of the filing cabinet so that the vibrating head
touched the window. The glass began to shimmy and rattle.
“Lasers?” I said.
He nodded. “We sweep for
bugs twice a day, but we can't do anything about the lasers. Except this.”
They thought highly of
themselves. I doubted the FBI budget for little old Jack Epstein included
Briggs and Stanton camped out in snow camo armed with expensive listening
devices.
“Tell me about Ken
Boyd.”
Roger sat down behind
the desk in a metal folding chair that had seen better days. I took the similar
one in front.
“Boyd, eh? He was the
perfect patsy.”
“Let me guess,” I said.
“Little Julie worked her wiles on him, seducing him to the cause.”
“It didn't take much.
The kid has daddy issues.”
“Has? You know he's
alive?”
“I don't know that he's
dead.”
He was a cocky,
insufferable bastard. I wanted to kick his teeth in on general principle.
Instead, I said, “Did you know who he was when you went after him?”
He shook his head. “Not
at first. We just pegged him as a rich kid with the right major, plus that van
was pretty sweet. And he looked like he had difficulty with the ladies.” He
favored me with a toothy smile. “He was one of many possibilities.”
“Did you pick The
Retreat because of him? Or was that just luck?”
“It was already on the
list, but he clinched it. When we found out he actually knew the layout and the
people, well, it was kismet.” He snorted. “And, boy was he anxious to stick it
to his dad.”
“And little Julie
learned all this by sleeping with him.”
He shrugged. “All for
the cause, man. You'd be surprised the stuff some guys will tell a chick
willing to bang 'em.”
“You didn't mind?”
“Mind?” He looked at me
as if I had three heads. “She's just a chick and I get all I want. Besides, I
didn't have to worry. No way he gave her what she got from me.”
All she got from you was
used, I thought. “So how did it work? Ken drew out a great deal of cash just
before he disappeared.”
“Gas, food, expenses. I
don't leave a paper trail, man. Everything is paid in cash.”
“So you all drove to Colorado
in his van.”
“Right.”
“Why this target,
besides Ken’s knowledge?”
He leaned forward and
spread his hands. “This fucking place. Expanding. Right there on top of the
mountain.” He sorted. “Thought they could slide by because of the mine clean up
and their hydroponic garden.”
“The what and their
what?”
“There were mines there.
Lead, zinc, gold. And a little town for the workers. Place only closed
completely in the eighties, after they raped the earth almost beyond repair.
It's a Superfund site, now.”
“They're building a
resort on a contaminated site?”
“Nah, that's only one
part of it. Where their fucking golf course is gonna go.” He waved a hand.
“It's all part of the con. That they're going to finish cleaning it up.”
“And the hydroponic
garden?”
“They’re trying to kill
local dissent with some green bullshit about how they’re growing their own
vegetables and fruits right there on the mountain. Reduce their carbon
footprint. Load of crap! It’s all cover for a major expansion.”
“Why do you say that?”
He sat back in the
chair, tilting it against the rear wall, and put his feet up on the desk. The
big boots thudded wetly on the scarred metal. Little bits of muddy snow fell to
the desktop.
“There was way too much
stuff up there. Big construction shed, tons of framing material, some sort of
bulldozer thing they'd helicoptered in. Then there’s that fucking cable car
they built, defacing Diablo Canyon. And they’re
Roger went to one of the
desks and rummaged in the top drawer. His hand came out holding a large
massaging vibrator with a fist sized head.
“I may have given you
the wrong idea,” I said.
He didn't even
acknowledge the remark, much less smile. He plugged the vibrator in and turned
it on, placing it on top of the filing cabinet so that the vibrating head
touched the window. The glass began to shimmy and rattle.
“Lasers?” I said.
He nodded. “We sweep for
bugs twice a day, but we can't do anything about the lasers. Except this.”
They thought highly of
themselves. I doubted the FBI budget for little old Jack Epstein included
Briggs and Stanton camped out in snow camo armed with expensive listening
devices.
“Tell me about Ken
Boyd.”
Roger sat down behind
the desk in a metal folding chair that had seen better days. I took the similar
one in front.
“Boyd, eh? He was the
perfect patsy.”
“Let me guess,” I said.
“Little Julie worked her wiles on him, seducing him to the cause.”
“It didn't take much.
The kid has daddy issues.”
“Has? You know he's
alive?”
“I don't know that he's
dead.”
He was a cocky,
insufferable bastard. I wanted to kick his teeth in on general principle.
Instead, I said, “Did you know who he was when you went after him?”
He shook his head. “Not
at first. We just pegged him as a rich kid with the right major, plus that van
was pretty sweet. And he looked like he had difficulty with the ladies.” He
favored me with a toothy smile. “He was one of many possibilities.”
“Did you pick The
Retreat because of him? Or was that just luck?”
“It was already on the
list, but he clinched it. When we found out he actually knew the layout and the
people, well, it was kismet.” He snorted. “And, boy was he anxious to stick it
to his dad.”
“And little Julie
learned all this by sleeping with him.”
He shrugged. “All for
the cause, man. You'd be surprised the stuff some guys will tell a chick
willing to bang 'em.”
“You didn't mind?”
“Mind?” He looked at me
as if I had three heads. “She's just a chick and I get all I want. Besides, I
didn't have to worry. No way he gave her what she got from me.”
All she got from you was
used, I thought. “So how did it work? Ken drew out a great deal of cash just
before he disappeared.”
“Gas, food, expenses. I
don't leave a paper trail, man. Everything is paid in cash.”
“So you all drove to Colorado
in his van.”
“Right.”
“Why this target,
besides Ken’s knowledge?”
He leaned forward and
spread his hands. “This fucking place. Expanding. Right there on top of the
mountain.” He sorted. “Thought they could slide by because of the mine clean up
and their hydroponic garden.”
“The what and their
what?”
“There were mines there.
Lead, zinc, gold. And a little town for the workers. Place only closed
completely in the eighties, after they raped the earth almost beyond repair.
It's a Superfund site, now.”
“They're building a
resort on a contaminated site?”
“Nah, that's only one
part of it. Where their fucking golf course is gonna go.” He waved a hand.
“It's all part of the con. That they're going to finish cleaning it up.”
“And the hydroponic
garden?”
“They’re trying to kill
local dissent with some green bullshit about how they’re growing their own
vegetables and fruits right there on the mountain. Reduce their carbon
footprint. Load of crap! It’s all cover for a major expansion.”
“Why do you say that?”
He sat back in the
chair, tilting it against the rear wall, and put his feet up on the desk. The
big boots thudded wetly on the scarred metal. Little bits of muddy snow fell to
the desktop.
“There was way too much
stuff up there. Big construction shed, tons of framing material, some sort of
bulldozer thing they'd helicoptered in. Then there’s that fucking cable car
they built, defacing Diablo Canyon. And they’re
Similar Books
