Page 125 of Sinful Tyrant


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“Really, what for?”

“Well, first of all, because she was willing to come and talk to Catherine after she got fired, not just assume the worst. Secondly, she gave us five thousand dollars when we needed it.”

“She did, did she?”

“Her own money, and she handed it over without a second thought. Then there’s the money Toby gave us last night. Two hundred thousand. I mean, the check was signed by Toby, but it’s all come from her, apparently. I never knew she was rich.”

“Me neither.”

The elevator opens, and we step out. I lead him to the car. “You know what you’ve got to do?” I ask, passing him the bag.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Quick and easy. Anyone asks any questions, you make something up, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” I pass her the car keys and watch as he walks away from me. I dig out my cell phone and call Toby.

“We’re on,” I tell him, spotting a cop at the end of the corridor. I duck around the corner and shove open a fire exit. Now is not the time to be taking chances. Even wearing this fucking awful outfit Toby gave me, there’s a chance I might be recognized.

“Come on over,” Toby replies. “I’ve got coffee on the go. The surveillance team just left. No one’s watching us. You’re safe.”

55

Hunter

* * *

It’s Toby’s wife that I see when the front door opens. “Hunter,” she says with a smile. “Shouldn’t you be in handcuffs or something?”

I smile back. “I guess so. Good afternoon, Cynthia.”

“Come on in.”

I follow her through to their kitchen, where Toby’s gluing the mast to a model of a sailing ship. “What do you think?” he asks.

“I think you’ve got some strange hobbies.”

“Helps keep my mind off work. Everyone needs a break sometimes, right?”

“Whatever it takes. How’s Alicia?”

“Went off to school fine, but she knows something is up. You’re going to have to talk to her sooner or later.”

“Let’s get today out of the way first. Now, I was told there would be coffee available.”

Cynthia pours me a cup, and I sip at it while watching Toby at work. He’s the epitome of concentration, gluing tiny strands of rigging to the ship.

“I don’t know how you have the patience,” I say after a couple of minutes. “I’d have smashed the fucking thing to pieces by now.”

“That’s the difference between you and me right there.”

“What is?”

“Soon as something gets complicated, you give up. On the other hand, I treat it as a challenge to enjoy.”

“You calling me a quitter?”

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