Page 79 of Fierce Seas


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Body language mattered.

Jim jerked up his head, a pained expression on his face.

“How long will I be here?” he asked woefully. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“Hello, Jim. I’m going to take your cuffs off for a minute,” Scott replied, walking behind him.

As Scott released him, Jim let out a heavy sigh and stretched his arms.

“Please tell me how long you’ll be keeping me here,” he asked meekly. “My wife will be worried. I’m sure she’s been trying to reach me.”

“You’re going back to Los Angeles,” Scott replied, fetching the folding chair and sitting down opposite him. “A van will be here shortly to pick you up. Obviously you’ll need a good lawyer, but I doubt you’ll get bail. Jim, where’s the money?”

“Money?” Jim repeated. “What money?”

“Don’t insult me,” Scott barked, his friendly demeanor suddenly changing.

Jim flinched.

It was the reaction Scott had hoped for.

“You don’t understand, it’s all gone,” Jim said earnestly. “The only money left is in an envelope in my desk. There’s about ten grand in there, that’s it.”

“You’re lying!” Scott snapped, jumping to his feet. “Put your hands behind your back.”

“But—”

“You had your chance and you blew it. Now put your fucking hands behind your back or I’ll put them there for you, and it won’t be pleasant!”

“Okay, okay.”

Looming over Jim until he’d followed the command, Scott stepped quickly around him and slapped on the cuffs.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he said brusquely. “You had Elizabeth eating out of the palm of your hand, but I didn’t buy it for a second. A search warrant is being issued. Your house will be literally torn apart. If you’re worried about your wife and kids, save them the hell of going through it and just tell me. You know how these things go. We will find it.”

Jim paused. “There’s nothing left.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Scott declared, folding his chair and leaning it against the wall. “You have a tell. Your right eyebrow lifts. That story you told Elizabeth about Conchello moving to Puerto Rico was total bullshit.”

A deep frown crawled across Jim’s forehead.

Scott suppressed a grin.

It was time for the kill.

“I don’t know why I’m wasting my time here,” he grunted. “You’re nothing but one of Conchello’s overpaid errand boys.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” Jim suddenly hissed, his facade falling away. “You’re wrong. He’d already put me in charge of his operation in Los Angeles, and I was about to be promoted to oversee the whole fucking state.”

“Not a chance in hell would he put someone like you in a position like that,” Scott barked back with a contemptuous sneer, “but it doesn’t matter. He won’t be promoting anyone. You’ll both be sniveling behind bars.”

“You don’t get it,” Jim exclaimed vehemently. “Conchello has more people under his thumb than there are fucking fans at the Super Bowl. People who matter, people who pull strings. Politicians, top cops, powerful lawyers. Be smart. Climb on board the gravy train. I don’t know who you work for, but I can make it happen. It’s either that, or be sliced into little pieces, and I’ll be there to watch.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Scott shot back. “I have everything I need to send you and Conchello down for a long time, a very long time.”

“You’ll be the one going down, asshole. Six feet down in a wooden box.”

“We’re done,” Scott exclaimed, heading for the door, but stopped and turned around. “I forgot to ask,” he lied, “you sent Elizabeth here with a bag full of money. What was that about?”

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