Collision Course (7 page)

A
houseboy had served them cold drinks, and they’d been sipping them in silence
for at least five minutes. Bennett welcomed the opportunity to gather his
thoughts. He’d be god damned if he’d start the conversation. And he had no
intention of apologizing. Shit happened and you cleaned it up.

Get your shit together. Don’t lose
control.

“So,”
El-Salaki began. “We have a problem.”

Bennett
unwrapped the cigar and held it in front of his nose, inhaling the flavor. It
was better than a tranquilizer for him. It also gave him time to collect his
thoughts.

“We
can’t rectify,” he said at last. “And I think we both own a share of this one.”

El-Salaki
said nothing, merely lifted an eyebrow.

“Don’t
give me that look.” Bennett kept his voice low and even. He who lost his temper
lost the fight. “The wrong person may have answered your call, but you should
have verified the person who answered before spilling your guts.”

“If you
had transferred the money at the appropriate time,” El-Salaki countered, “I
never would have had to make the call.”

“And I
will tell
you
something.” He pointed his cigar at the other man. “Tobias
Serrano is as big a thief as ever. I transferred the agreed upon amount. He was
holding you up for a bigger payoff.”

El-Salaki
narrowed his eyes. “I can’t believe he doesn’t know there would be consequences
to such an action.”

“You can
bet, however, he believes in this situation he’s in the driver’s seat and
doesn’t give a damn about consequences,” Bennett pointed out. “Perhaps it’s
time to find another supplier. Tobias doesn’t have the only drug cartel in the
world.”

“No. Not
an option. We deal with others but our relationship with him is of long
standing. We’ve established a rhythm. And trust, a most important commodity.”

Bennett
snorted. “Trust. How can you say that word in the same breath as Serrano’s
name?”

“Because
we do have a measure of trust with him, more than any other cartel. And we need
to take delivery so we can then complete our end of the sale and purchase a
critical shipment of arms. We have a rebel army waiting for them.”

They sat
in silence for a moment, studying each other.

Bennett
turned the situation over in his mind. Between the three of them—himself,
El-Salaki and Serrano—they had ordered the death of a staggering number of
people without twitching an eyebrow. But Bennett had only arranged killings
twice. The other one had been personal, just like this one. He hadn’t liked it
the last time and he liked it less now. Trey Haggerty had a brilliant future
ahead of him, cut short now by an unintentional but fatal mistake.

But a
man did dangerous things with his survival at stake. The information in the
Funda account alone, if Haggerty cracked it, could have the government
breathing down his neck.

Fucking
shit.

He
expected to be the one in control at all times. He prided himself on it. But
one lapse and everything went to shit.

Sometimes
he enjoyed a silent laugh that the eminently respected Bennett Global
Enterprises had been built on money from illegal activities. He’d tricked them
all, fooling everyone so no one guessed the truth. But he wouldn’t be laughing
if the information fell into the wrong hands.

“I think
we need to solicit help from Tobias to locate your disappearing executive,”
El-Salaki said at last. “He has a virtual army at his disposal. You must have
some idea where the man would go.”

Bennett
shook his head. “Not to his parents who live in New Mexico. He wouldn’t want to
put them in harm’s way. He’d stay away from friends and relatives, too.”

“He must
have transportation. You say he left his car in the parking lot at the bank?
Then he has to have purchased a replacement.”

“I have
someone checking on it. Whatever he buys, the title transfer has to be
registered. My tech person has written a program to check all state motor
vehicle registrations on a continuous basis. As soon as Haggerty’s name pops
up, we’ll at least have a direction to follow.”

“You
said he bought a bus ticket to Seattle.” El-Salaki pointed out. “Why? Does he
have contacts there he could trust?”

“No, and
even if he did he’d be smart enough to stay away from them.” Bennett shook his
head. “I’m guessing he took the next bus leaving the terminal and got off at
one of the stops along the way. Figured out how to get new wheels and went
about losing himself in the population.”

El-Salaki
sneered at him. “Meanwhile, we have a man running around with dangerous
information and no idea where he’d go.” He paused. “You know he’s going to hide
away somewhere and see if he can dig into your protected files. Can he breach
your firewall? Get into the coded accounts?”

”Not
unless he has extraordinary hacking skills, and I’ve never seen any evidence of
it.” Bennett hoped he was right.

“He’s
not going to sit still.” El-Salaki took a sip of his cold drink then set the
glass down with a slow, deliberate movement. “He’ll want to find someplace he
believes is safe. Then he’ll dig for evidence of what he now suspects.”

Something
Bennett was all too aware of. “Even if he cracked the first level, the
important information is embedded in internal documents and subfiles. If he
gets too deep into it, he’ll send a red flag through the system. We can trace
it to his location.”

“I don’t
intend to sit around and wait for that to happen,” El Salaki growled. “The
longer he’s at large, the more dangerous he becomes.” He lifted his glass and
swallowed the last drops of his drink. “All right. I will admit we both are
complicit here. But we have to rectify the situation at once. What do your
people think about him being gone? Have you a plausible excuse for his
absence?”

Bennett
nodded and told him about the email.

“Good,
good. Then it’s time to call Tobias and bring him into the mess. He’s the best
one to lead the search.”

“Haggerty’s
my man,” Bennett protested. “I’ll take care of things.”

El-Salaki
shook his head. “I think not. This clusterfuck is your mess. We’ll clean it
up.” He paused for a moment. “You know the price you’ll pay if he’s not found.”

Bennett
knew. He just tried not to think about it.

*****

Trey
couldn’t believe how long he’d slept. Although he’d closed both the blinds and
the drapes in the one window, a tiny sliver of sunlight made its way into the
room. He rolled over to check his watch and blinked. Eight thirty. Holy shit!
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so late but right now he didn’t
have the luxury. He’d forgotten to set the alarm on his watch, a symptom of his
state of mind.

He
forced himself out of bed, stretching his muscles to get out the last of the
kinks from two long days of steady driving. His rumbling stomach reminded him
it wanted to be fed, a meal long past due. But the hollow feeling inside him
didn’t come from hunger alone. A healthy dose of fear mixed with it, and a
sense time was rushing by too fast. The place he’d stopped at the first night
didn’t have Internet, and he had been so bleary-eyed by the time he checked in
he wouldn’t have been able to work anyway.

And last
night when he’d asked about an Internet connection, he’d been told they hadn’t
wired for it yet. No surprise. But he couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, hoping
to find cheap lodgings with Wi-Fi. For one thing, that seemed to be an
oxymoron. For another, he needed to get to work. Bennett had no doubt ordered a
massive search for him and his time until they found him could be limited. He’d
have to find his way into Connelly, hoping it consisted of more than this
motel, and see if someplace had Internet service. Was the town big enough to
have a library? They usually offered connections.

Showered
and dressed in clean jeans and a t-shirt, he tucked his Glock at the small of
his back, throwing on a long sleeved shirt, unbuttoned, to conceal it.
Hopefully he wouldn’t need to use the weapon but in current circumstances it
didn’t pay to take chances. Taking his cell and his laptop, he stopped at the
front office where a woman leaned on the check-in desk. She looked up with a
smile when he walked in.

“How far
are we from Connelly?” he asked, giving her what he intended to be a charming
grin, even though he didn’t feel charming. “I mean, there really is one,
right?”

“Sure.”
Her Texas drawl was thicker than sorghum. “Turn left out of the parking lot,
and in about a mile you’ll start to see civilization.”

“I’m
surprised you built so far away from everything.”

She
shrugged. “We own all the land on three sides. Someday we hope to do more with
the place. In the meantime, we do okay here.” She winked. “We’re about the only
game around.”

Which
gave Trey an unpleasant sense of what he’d find. Nothing.

“Can you
recommend a place to get breakfast? Also, is there a local library with an
Internet connection?”

“Half ’n
Half will take care of both things for you,” she told him.

“What’s
that? It sounds like a coffee shop.”

The
woman nodded. “It is. It’s also a restaurant. Half restaurant, half coffee
shop. Half ’n Half.” She grinned. “Cute, huh?”

“Yeah,
sure.” Trey could imagine what the rest of Connelly would be like if that was
any indication. “And they have Internet?”

“Yup.”
She winked at him. “We’re up to date here.”

“Oh.
Good. Well, thanks.”

“Any
idea how long you’ll be staying?”

Trey
shook his head. “Can I pay for two weeks in advance and then go from there?” He
hoped he could get everything he needed by then and call his friend Max Rider
in Homeland Security.

“Sure.
We’re easy to get along with.”

He
pulled out his wallet and removed four one hundred dollar bills, fanning them
out on the counter. “That cover it?”

“Absolutely.”
She palmed the money so expertly, Trey had to swallow a smile of admiration.
“Cash, huh? Running from an ex-wife?”

“Uh, not
quite but sort of.”

“No
problem. You mind your business, we mind ours. Someone comes asking questions,
we don’t know a damn thing.”

Now he
gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t
make me regret my words,” she warned.

“Not for
a minute.” He waved on his way out the door.

Sure
enough, a mile down the highway he saw the first signs of civilization. Large
homes perched on wide parcels of land protected by ancient trees. Soon, the
houses became closer together, with smaller lanes intersecting the road. He
noticed street signs and wasn’t the least surprised to discover he was on Main
Street. What else would it be called in a place like this?

Connelly
had the same appearance as every other town he’d driven through since he
crossed the state line into Texas. Same kind of shops—quaint with Western
facades and kitschy names like the Half ’n Half, mixed in with practical
businesses like the hardware store. Same type of offices located in old houses.
If he drove the countryside, he bet he’d find ranches occupying the surrounding
land. After all, what else would you find in Texas?

He
stopped at a traffic light—the first one he’d come to—and saw the sign for Half
’n Half across the street. Circling the block, he found a place to park, stuck
his cell in his shirt pocket, his laptop under his arm and pushed through the
door to the restaurant.

He was
immediately assaulted by the clamor of conversation, and the aroma of
well-prepared food teased at his nose. His stomach rumbled again in response.
What he assumed to be the restaurant side was warm and friendly, with booths
along two walls and tables crowded in the middle. Almost every seat was filled.
As he wavered by the cash register, heads turned toward him, faces with
interested expressions eyeing him. Of course, they’d be curious. Strangers
probably were very rare here and he stuck out like a sore thumb. Something he
should have thought about. Finding another place with Wi-Fi probably wouldn’t
help. He’d be an object of curiosity wherever he went here. He’d just have to
suck it up.

Trying
to be as unobtrusive as possible, he made his way toward an archway at one side
of the room and stepped into a smaller space with high-backed booths lining the
walls. Most of the seated people were hunched over a computer or tablet of some
kind. Subdued lighting gave the area a hushed feeling.

Lucky
for him, he located an empty booth tucked away in a corner and slid into it. He
also noticed the outlet in the wall. All the necessities. Very efficient. He
put his laptop down on the table, opened it and plugged it in. He assumed
someone would come along at some point to take his order, but right now he
wanted to make sure he connected to the Internet. He breathed a sigh of relief
when a message came up prompting him to select the connection he wanted. He
clicked on “Guest” and in a moment his Home page filled the screen.

“Would
you care for coffee or something to eat before you get to work?” a warm,
musical voice asked in a drawl not as thick as the woman in the motel but
slower and softer.

A little
hotter.

It
washed over him like a sensual blanket.

Trey
glanced up at the woman standing beside the booth and nearly did a double take.
An unexpected surge of desire stunned him. His groin tightened, and his
traitorous dick tried its best to remind him what it was used for.

What
the hell?

He was
running for his life, hiding away while he attempted to gather the information
to protect himself, and here he sat mesmerized like a teenager.

Not
now! Not now!

She was
so opposite from most of the women he knew, women who were fluffed and polished
within an inch of their lives. He guessed her height at about five seven, and
from what he could see, her body was well-toned. She wore little makeup but she
didn’t need it, her honey-colored skin almost flawless. Thick dark lashes
accented coffee-colored eyes. Her hair was the same color, with sun-lightened streaks
giving it a richness of texture. She wore it in a thick braid hanging straight
down her back but some stray tendrils had escaped and softened the severity of
the style.