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“Fuck it,” Mills rasped out, choking against my hold on his neck. “Just tell them.”
“Fine. Put the damned gun down.”
“Nice try,” Joe said. “No deal.”
“For Christ’s sake. We’ve been working together for months now. Where’s the trust?”
“It went out the window when you let Booker go,” I said. “You heard your partner. Start talking.”
“Fine. Yeah, we let him go.”
“What’d he pay you?” Joe said.
“Not much. You were right about one thing. No one pays as well as the Steels. But he did have one valuable thing to offer.”
I shook my head, scoffing. “Your life.”
“Give the man a silver dollar,” Johnson said. “You were right about him hiding something up his ass, only it wasn’t a bobby pin. It was a fucking switchblade. Somehow he picked the lock and got out of the room.”
“And somehow, one man with a knife outmaneuvered two men with guns?” Joe said. “I don’t think so.”
“He had moves I’ve never seen before,” Johnson said. “Tell them, Mills.”
“A little hard to talk,” Mills choked out.
“Tough,” I said. “Talk.”
“Some kind of martial arts thing. Nothing we’ve seen,” Mills rasped.
“He was able to hold one knife on both of you?”
“Not exactly,” Johnson said. “He had me in some kind of headlock against the wall and the knife at Mills’s throat. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Do you know where he was going?”
“Do you really think we interrogated him while he was threatening to kill us?” Johnson said.
I couldn’t help a laugh. I finally let go of Mills’s throat, and he crumpled to the ground, clutching his neck. I pulled one of my guns and held it on him.
“So there is something more important to the two of you than money,” Joe said. “Who’d have thought?”
“I’m not sure they ever gave it a thought,” I said. “Did you?”
“Not really. We’ve never been in the situation. We’re usually one step ahead of whoever we’re tailing. Hell, we went underground and turned the tables on Wendy Madigan when she tried to frame us. But this guy is something else.”
“Yeah, well, this guy was trained by the best,” I said.
Trained by the best. Just like I was.
No. Don’t go there. No more self-indulgence.
“I ought to blow your brains out on principle,” Joe said.
“Not worth it,” I said. “We’re not killers. We’re not my father.”
I’m not my father.
I took my gun off Mills. “Any more information you can give us?”
