I aimed right between his feet and fired again. Bits of pavement went flying. He yelped. That’s right. Mr. Cool-as-a-Cucumber Professional Sniper made the same sound Rosie did if you accidentally stepped on her tail. I found it tremendously satisfying. “Next time,” I said, “I’m aiming two feet higher.”
His jaw dropped open. I had no doubt he believed me.
I said it again. “What do you want with Dylan Welch?”
“He owes money to the firm.”
“Moon and Desmond?”
“No, just Moon,” he said.
“Desmond doesn’t know about it.”
“I have no idea what Mr. Burke knows and doesn’t know.”
“That’s noncommittal of you.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” I said. “What does Dylan owe you money for? Drugs?”
“Medical supplies.”
“Cut the crap. I’m not a cop.”
“You wearing a wire?”
“You’ve been chasingme. This meeting wasn’t by choice. Why the fuck would I be wearing a wire?”
He looked me up and down, computing the situation in his thick head. Then he actually grinned. “Can you prove you ain’t wearing a wire?”
Idiot.I raised the gun two feet.
“Okay, okay! It’s drugs.”
“What kind?” I said.
“Designer stuff. From overseas. He owes us a lot. He said he was good for it and then he just…disappeared. Like Moon says, that’s a dumbfuck thing to do.”
“A real wordsmith, that Moon.”
“Huh?”
I sighed. “What do you mean by ‘designer stuff’?”
“I…I don’t know. Powerful shit. Moon figured he was good for the money because he’s bought from us before. We didn’t expect him to run away.”
“Why do you think I know where he is?”
“We’ve been tracking his phone. You have it. Or you had it.”
“The police have it now.”
“Wait, what?”
“Welch is missing,” I said. “I’m trying to find him, just like you are.”
“Why are you trying to find him?”
