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Johnson laughed. “I think you know what I’m talking about, Bart. I know she came to your office. She had that PI checking up on you, just like he was checking up on me. She wants to find her daughter’s killer.” He scoffed. “She should have known all PIs are alike, for sale to the highest bidder. Bauer knew his career would be over if he screwed with the Johnsons.”
“Are you talking about Lucy Cagle’s mother?” Bart hoped his confusion was convincing. God, he had never hated anyone in his whole life the way he hated this man ... this ... this thug.
Louise had figured out the damned PI had sold out. What kind of man did such a thing? Scum like this one, that was who.
Johnson sneered. “Don’t fucking jerk me around, Mr.Social Services. I want you to get a message to her for me.”
Fury bolted through Bart. “I will not do anything for you, you son of a bitch!”
Johnson shrugged. “Well, in that case I might have to talk to the Judge.” He smirked. “Or maybe I’ll talk to that pretty young daughter of yours.”
Bart pointed the meat fork he held at the bastard. “You leave my family alone. I want nothing to do with you or that ... that woman. She has done nothing but cause me trouble, when all I did was help her daughter.”
Please, please let me be convincing enough.
Johnson’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look stupid to you?”
Bart blinked, tried to come up with a response that wouldn’t get his family hurt.
“I have a message for her, and you are going to give it to her,” Johnson warned. “So listen carefully.”
Bart’s head bobbed up and down of its own accord. “I’m listening.”
“She took something that belongs to me. I’m going to give her until Monday to bring it back. If she doesn’t, she’ll end up tucked in right next to her dead daughter and husband. You got it?” Johnson demanded.
More frantic nodding. “I’ll tell her. You have my word.”
“Good. Now I don’t have to hurt your family. You do this for me and keep quiet like a good boy and you will never hear from me again.”
“All right.” Bart swallowed, forced his lungs to draw in a breath.
“Good. So why don’t you make that call now.” He glanced at the phone extension lying on the table next to the grill. “I’ll just hang around and make sure you relay the message properly.”
Bart placed the fork on the table and picked up the phone. He hated that his hand shook so badly. Then he frowned. “I ... I don’t know her number.”
This was true. He’d only ever spoken to Louise Cagle face to face.
Johnson smiled and reached into his shirt pocket for a piece of paper. “Not to worry. I have it right here.”
As the man called off the digits, Bart entered them into the phone.
“Put it on speaker,” Johnson demanded.
Bart tapped the button for the speaker just as Louise answered.
“Why are you calling me?” she demanded.
Bart licked his lips and forced his brain and mouth to work together. “Ray Johnson stopped by my house.” His voice failed him, and he made a low keening sound. A glower from Johnson had him clearing his throat. “He ... he wanted me to give you a message. He said you have something that belongs to him and you have until Monday to bring it back.”
The click of her ending the call echoed in Bart’s ear.
“She ...” He stared at Johnson, the phone hanging from his hand. “She hung up.”
Johnson smiled. “No problem. I think she got the message.”
Bart found the wherewithal to tap the End button.
“Good job.” Johnson gestured to the steaks. “You enjoy your celebratory lunch. I’m sure you’re proud of your wife. She’s doing great things.”
