Authors: Cathy Perkins,Taylor Lee,J Thorn,Nolan Radke,Richter Watkins,Thomas Morrissey,David F. Weisman
He waited a moment, then, his voice amped up a bit, “Well,
if it isn’t the man of the hour.”
Rouse came across the great room, the lawyer abruptly
stopping, unsure what he was walking into, making Marco think of a virgin boy in
a brothel, eyes wide.
“C’mon, counselor,” Leon said, “get your butt over here.”
Rouse remained tightly rooted to the spot, shocked, like he
was considering which way to run.
“Goddamn, dude, don’t hold up the party,” Leon said in an
exasperated voice. “I got to drag you over here? Nobody gonna bite you.”
Looking at Marco, Rouse said, “Who is this?”
“Friend of mine.”
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you,” Marco said. “None of it
good. Best do like the man says.”
Rouse struggled to gather himself. “What the hell’s going on
here?”
“Been a little change in plans, counselor,” Leon said. “Got
somebody I want you to meet.”
Rouse glanced at Marco. “What’s going on. We need to get
back to the party. You break something?”
Leon stared at him.
Suddenly Rouse saw the bottle of whisky. “That’s a
sixteen-thousand-dollar bottle!”
“It ain’t bad,” Leon said. “Little overpriced, if you ask
me. I see old sport is waiting at the lion’s den. What’s he doing?”
“He wants me to send Daisy. He’s angry you guys aren’t at
the party.”
“Tell old sport she’ll be down shortly,” Leon said. “Don’t
elaborate.”
Leon handed the phone to Rouse and the lawyer made the call.
Before he could say anything else, Leon grabbed the phone back. “Let’s go to
your office.”
“How the hell did you get into my office?” The lawyer didn’t
seem to want to believe that they were really in his office. Or much of anything
that was going on.
“Have a sixteen-thousand-dollar drink,” Leon said. “A
double. I think you’re going to need it.”
Rouse seemed unable to come to grips with the situation, let
alone a drink.
Leon just shrugged. “Well, let’s go to the office, work out
something. Our prenup has to be changed.” Then he said, looking at the
smartphone, “Thorp’s talking to his lion. Man’s a little nuts. C’mon, move it.”
Marco wanted to make a move, but not with Sydney out of his
sight and under Kora’s control.
60
When the three of them entered the office, Rouse followed by
Marco and then Leon, Sydney felt a little sense of relief. She’d feared the two
men might not get along, end up in a battle, and bring the whole thing down with
them. She turned her attention to Rouse.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Tricky Dick,” Sydney said.
Rouse looked like he was on the verge of a stroke or heart
attack, his face white, his eyes bugged out. He stared at Sydney as if she’d
arisen from the graveyard before his eyes.
“You find anything interesting?” Leon asked Kora.
“You wouldn’t believe the shit this pervert has on people,”
Kora said. “He takes voyeurism to a new level. He’s got surveillance tapes on
everybody and their mother, and we haven’t even gotten into the safe. Can’t wait
to see what’s in there.”
Kora looked at Rouse. “Oh, and Sydney needs your various
passwords.”
Rouse, as if trying to wake from his nightmare, seemed for
the moment incapable of movement or speech. It was hard to tell if he was
petrified or so stoned he couldn’t get his brain in order, or just in extreme
shock.
Leon encouraged him with the business end of his automatic’s
silencer pressed against the lawyer’s ear.
Kora said, “If you’re going to shoot him, back up a little
so we don’t get splatter all over us.” She said it with a small, cold grin.
Rouse wrote down his passwords on a desk tablet without
further encouragement.
“Now let’s get that safe open,” Leon said. “See what kind of
goodies you got in there.” Leon checked the smartphone. “Thorp is still down
there talking to his lion. Bet that’s a conversation.”
Rouse went to the safe and began the process of opening it.
“You can rob us,” he said in a hushed, tight voice. “You can
kill us. But it’ll trigger the biggest manhunt ever.”
Kora said, “He opens his mouth again, shoot him. Then we’ll
bring Thorp up here and see if he can’t open it. I’m sure he knows the
combinations and how to change the time-lock sequence or whatever.”
“She’s not kiddin’, dude. Woman doesn’t like you much,” Leon
said. “Not much at all.”
Rouse sucked air like a landed fish, the veins on his neck
popping. He spun the dial.
Kora chuckled. “We’ve been your little slave girls for the
past couple years, Dicky. Now we’re gonna see how you like it, you disgusting
freak. You and that tiny little prick of yours that needs drugs to keep it
propped up. One of the girls says you make clucking sounds when you fuck,
sounding like a sick chicken.”
Leon laughed as best he could. “He don’t get this safe open
pretty quick, he’s looking to become Tricky Dickless.”
Rouse’s hands were shaking violently. Everything he did with
the combination, the wheel, had to be repeated.
Finally, a gun against the back of his head, he got himself
under control and opened the wall safe.
“Holy shit,” Kora exclaimed.
There were three shelves piled with stacks of money. Open
boxes that appeared to have stocks and bonds. They had Rouse bring out those and
other boxes that contained gold, jewelry, and various bonds and certificates of
deposit.
“The mother lode,” Kora said, opening a box and pulling out
a handful of jewelry.
Leon looked at Rouse’s cell when it buzzed. “That’s your
boss,” Leon said, handing him the phone. “Tell him everything’s cool. Tell him
we’re on our way down with Daisy. And talk normal. I even think there’s a hint
of a signal, you’re dead.”
Rouse did as he was told, and then Leon took the phone from
him, adding, “We’re on our way, boss.”
He hung up.
Kora said, “I stay with Tricky Dick here. Find out some
things, like where else he’s got secrets hidden. And he can help me pack some
money and stuff. I don’t want to hang around. You go deal with Thorp.”
Motioning to Sydney and Marco, Leon said, “Let’s go down and
see old sport, get him on the program.”
This can’t go well,
Sydney thought as they left Kora
and Rouse in the office and headed back into the hall.
Sydney was in the lead, followed by Marco and then the
killer. She was edgy. Leon was unpredictable, and how much power Kora had over
him—and how long it would last—was the question. Plus the guy was on some
powerful drugs and drinking, by the smell of him.
She saw no good end with Thorp once he realized what was
going on. Or maybe Leon and Kora had another game up their sleeve. Maybe an
ultimate betrayal was still coming.
They were ushered through the great room, then down another
hall filled with paintings, mostly of what looked like French and Italian
scenes. Then they walked into a back room that led to the tunnel.
She heard Marco say from behind her, “I’m thinking, after
this, you get bored down the road, we might work together again. This is turning
out to be interesting.”
Sydney liked how Marco was playing this guy, trying to get
the guy thinking ahead. But that might not mean anything in the end. Outthinking
a sociopath was impossible.
“The world is ripe for the taking,” Leon said.
Based on logic and Sydney’s experience, either the client
was going to be killed, or they were.
They reached the tunnel. Ogden Thorp waited, standing by the
cage door.
They passed under the faux torchlights on the medieval stone
walls.
“What took you so—” He stopped and appeared to be trying to
make sense of what he was seeing.
“I got a present for you,” Leon said. “They aren’t dead. I
was just fooling you. Setting you up for the big shockaroo. It’s something I
wanted to surprise you with.”
Sydney’s gut tightened. Maybe he was always, in the end,
going to hand them over to Thorp and his lion.
“What the hell?” Thorp said, confused, looking a little
drunk and definitely shocked.
“Alive and well,” Leon said.
Thorp didn’t seem to know how to react but chose to be
positive. He smiled. “I’ll be damned. You’re just full of surprises.”
“Life’s all about surprises,” Leon said.
Thorp said, “Sydney Jesup, I thought you were dancing at the
bottom of the lake. But I’m actually glad to see you. I have someone I want you
to meet.”
“I’m sure you do,” Sydney said, looking at the big old lion
sitting on the slab across the pool, under a dim ceiling light, his yellowish
eyes watching them, a massive wreath of fur exploding around his neck. Behind
him, a cave, more rocks.
She figured the moment of truth had arrived. But she had no
idea which way it was going.
61
“Easy, boy,” she heard Leon say to Marco, who was no doubt
poised to make some kind of desperate move.
“Marco, we’re good,” Sydney said. “Right, Leon?”
“That’s right,” Leon said in that muted drone of his.
They had gone from trusting Kora and getting betrayed to now
hoping the killer was under Kora’s control and would follow the plan.
Sydney thought Thorp looked like some mad fool pacing around
in his white suit with his English racing cap. He pushed open the iron cage
door, saying, “George has been waiting, haven’t you, old sport? Didn’t get fed
yet today.”
He turned to Leon. “Where’s Daisy and Rouse? They don’t want
to miss the big show.”
“We made a mess,” Leon said. “They’re cleaning it up. Maybe
we’ll go up, help them.”
Thorp said, “I got something here I want to show you.” He
pulled a small Derringer from his pocket. “Jesup, come on over here.” He pointed
the small gun at her. “You and me need to conclude our business.”
Thorp said to Leon, “This is the woman who busted your face
and nearly destroyed the greatest project in the history of Lake Tahoe.” Then he
turned back to Sydney. “You’ve been a royal pain in the ass. I’ve dreamed about
this moment. You and your boyfriend here like to fight, well, you’re gonna have
a real fight on your hands.”
“First we need to talk about some things,” Leon said.
“Later,” Thorp said, almost yelling. “I’m gonna hire you
permanent. You did one hell of a job and you’re going to get a very big reward.
A payday you’ll love.”
Thorp motioned to Sydney with the Derringer. “George has
been dying to make your acquaintance, right George?” he said, glancing back at
the old lion.
“Damn, that’s a pretty gun,” Leon said. “Never seen one like
that.”
“A piece of history,” Thorp said with drunken pride. “Two
guns were made and one of them John Wilkes Booth used to kill Lincoln. This is
the brother to it. A real piece of history.”
“You’re bullshitting,” Leon said.
“I certainly am not. This is the real thing.”
“Let me see that,” Leon said. “I love the history of guns.
Marco, move over there along the wall under the light.”
Marco went to the wall under one of the torchlights. Sydney
exchanged looks with him. He was tight, coiled. Leon was well aware of his
demeanor and didn’t want him close.
Leon moved Sydney ahead of him and then reached out for the
gun. Thorp didn’t look like he wanted to put his prize in Leon’s hands, but he
surrendered it, given Leon had a much bigger weapon in his hand.
Leon, a gun in each hand, brought the Derringer up where he
could get a good look in the dim light. “Boy, that is a beauty. You have this
tested or something? Make sure it wasn’t some fake replica?”
“Everything was checked out,” Thorp said. “I’d like to give
it to you, but I can’t do that.”
“I love old guns,” Leon said. “But nothing in my collection
matches the history of this baby. Consider it a gift for a job well done.”
“We’ll see about that later,” Thorp said. “First things
first.” He made a sudden move, grabbing Sydney by one arm and her hair. He
jerked her against the door and then into the cage with such violence she was
thrown off balance as he yelled, “George, got something for you.”
It happened so fast, Sydney found herself falling backwards
toward the pond, but she twisted around, reversing the momentum. Thorp lost his
balance when she twisted. He started falling and had to let go of her. Sydney
jumped back.
Thorp tripped, struggled to get his footing, and kept
staggering back toward the pond with a cartoon-like struggle to regain his
footing. His attempts failed and he went down on his butt at the edge of the
water.
The old lion—roused by all the commotion, his primal
instincts kicking in—suddenly rose and came across the small pond in a single
bound. The big old cat hit Thorp with the impact of a three-hundred-pound
linebacker coming full speed.
Thorp never had a chance. His racing cap flew all the way
back to the door. The old lion grabbed him around his head and neck and began to
drag him away.
At first it looked like Leon was going in to help him, but
instead, he went in for the racing cap, never, as he moved, taking his eyes off
Marco or her.
“Back out,” he said.
She retreated to the tunnel corridor.
Leon came out with the cap and shut the cage door behind
him.
The big cat dragged Thorp across the concrete floor around
the pond and disappeared with his catch into his den. At first, Thorp’s legs had
kicked and his arms flailed, but by the time he was dragged around the pond, he
stopped all resistance.
One shoe had come off. He had on white socks that looked to
be held up by garters. He never even got out a scream. The big cat had knocked
the wind out of him, then dragged him by the head. A wing-tipped shoe floated in
the pond.
“You see how fast that bastard came across that water?” Leon
said, all excited. He put the racing cap on, like a bowl atop the face mask.
“How do I look?”