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“What about the woman that was found dead?”
“They’re still identifying the body so don’t panic.”
I laugh. Easy for him to say. “I’m not happy.”
“Me neither. But here we are. I’ll call you when I’m back in town.” He hangs up.
“Fuck,” I curse. But it’s not like I haven’t got enough to keep me busy. I check my watch as I wander down the corridor. Nine. It’s going to be a long day.
27
DANNY
* * *
It’s been a long fucking week. A week of silence, no action, no calls, and no more shoot-outs. I’m not relieved. I still haven’t broached the subject of my wife and children leaving for St. Lucia, there’s nothing happening at the warehouses that were bought by the Russians and Mexicans, Bean is still at training camp, and Higham must be having a merry old time on holiday because the fucker isn’t answering my calls and hasn’t let me know when he’s back. The one thing that hasn’t happened that I am grateful for? Otto doesn’t appear to have popped the question to Mum. I hope he’s bottled it. Realized she’s too good for him. Unlikely because, fuck my life, he’s very good for her.
I wriggle the knot of my tie and leave our room, sending a prayer for answers today. I bump into Pearl halfway down the stairs. “All right?” I ask, stopping, telling her she should too.
“Yeah, just getting my bag. We’re going to the spa.”
Great. I’ll expect a call from Alan soon. “Take Tank.”
“Yes, Danny. We’re taking Tank.”
I look up and down the corridor, preparing to ask what I’ve been wanting to ask for a week now, but have stalled, perhaps because I’m a little worried about what I might hear. “Tell me what happened in the alley that night,” I order softly, watching as Pearl’s smile falters.
“What?” she breathes.
“You didn’t hear me?”
“Yes, I heard you.”
“Well?”
“I went out to smoke.”
“You shouldn’t be smoking.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m a?—”
“And? What else happened?”
“Nolan came out. I left the door ajar.”
Nolan went out? Alone? What about Brad? “And?”
“And we were just chitchatting.”
“Chitchatting,” I muse. “And?”
“Then Brad came out and ranted, as per usual Brad.”
“Standard.”
“Yes. And then it’s a bit of a blur. Screeching tires, guns firing.”
I nod, slipping my hands into my pockets and carrying on. “I’m glad you’re okay.” I’m sure I’ve left a frowning face behind. “Enjoy your day,” I call back, heading for the kitchen, thinking.
