It took me a little while to decide what to wear, since my no-doubt busy workday also included a luncheon with the Welches. Ultimately, I settled on a Burberry wool dress in a deep red plaid, paired with a black Tom Ford jacket and low-heeled, black Bottega Veneta boots—hopefully covering all bases in terms of comfort and understated chic.
Elspeth looked spectacular in my white Armani suit—like a young power broker. Spike said he’d drive her to work and make sure she got to the office safely. “Let me know when you’re leaving,” he added. “I’ll escort you home, too.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I know,” Spike said. “But if I don’t, I’ll worry.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
As she was grabbing her coat, Elspeth’s phone dinged again. We all looked at it. It was from Dylan this time.How do u know about Moon?
I took the phone and replied.His guy came by the office.
Bubbles again. A solid thirty seconds of them, at least. And then, finally, the reply arrived.
Thx
“Thanks? That’s all?” Elspeth said.
“Apparently,” I said.
“What does it mean?”
Spike took his coat from the couch and put it on. “I think it means you’ve got some time to yourself,” he said. “But I wouldn’t count on it being for too long.”
He and Elspeth and I said goodbye. I closed the door. Two seconds later, there was a knock. I opened it. “Call Desmond,” Spike said.
“Okay, okay.”
I watched the two of them walk to the elevator and closed and locked my door. Then I called Desmond. It was still before nine, but knowing my former father-in-law, he’d already been up for at least three or four hours.
Sure enough, he answered quickly. “Sunny?” he said. “Again?”
“Hi, Desmond.”
“Did my son—”
“No,” I said. “No, he did not. I’m actually calling about a gun.”
“What?”
I opened my purse, pulled out the thug’s gun, and looked at it. I found it clumsier than my .38, but that could have just been a familiarity thing. “It’s a Ruger MAX-9,” I said. “I took it from that idiot I was telling you about. Moon’s guy. Baseball cap. I told him I would give it to you and he could ask you for it.”
“Let me clarify this,” he said. “Moon Monaghan truly is having you followed?”
“Was,” I said.
“Why?”
“Well, it’s not me he’s after. It’s Dylan Welch, whose phone I had. Ever hear of him? He owes Moon money. Moon’s people have been tracking him through his phone, but he’s gone missing. I’ve been hired to find him, which is why I had the phone he left behind—the same one they were tracking. Make sense?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Yes. I’ve heard of Dylan Welch,” Desmond said finally. His voice was as dry and heavy as dirt on a grave.
“So…” I cleared my throat. “How can I get this gun to you?”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“Pardon?”
