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The younger man known as Tony looked at him from across the table in the highway diner as he delivered his message. The remnants of their meal were scattered across the table, and Tony was on his third soft drink.
“How can you drink that crap with breakfast?” he asked. “Why can’t you drink coffee like normal people?”
Tony grinned, as if the kid knew it irritated the crap out of him. “It’s just cold caffeine, old man. Try it sometime.”
“No, thanks.” He finished the coffee in his cup and signaled for a refill. “And tell your boss we don’t need to make any changes just yet.”
Tony cocked an eyebrow, another mannerism that irritated him. “Are you kidding me? The word’s out everywhere about this Moretti bitch, and it’s only been a couple of days. She’s too nosy for her own good. And ours.”
He waited until the waitress had poured his coffee before he spoke again. “I think you need to let me worry about that.”
“Now, that’s where you’re wrong, old man. We all need to worry. The boss is getting itchy. She’s digging around in old shit that could get people looking around in places we don’t want them looking. It could even lead to you, and ruin a good thing for all of us.”
“Tell your boss to pay no attention,” he said in a flat voice, pushing back the surge of anger. “She’ll be gone before long.”
“But—”
“I’m telling you, no one will want to help her. Trust me on that. They’ll blow her off.” He swallowed some coffee and made a face at its bitter taste. Probably the bottom of the pot. “Besides, I plan to see that she doesn’t hang around too long.”
“How are you going to do that without attracting attention?” Tony crunched an ice cube. “We’ve got a good thing going here, you know. Everyone’s making good money. Including you. We don’t want to screw that up.”
“And we’re not going to. We’ll just continue with business as usual. No one’s looking our way, and with what I’ve got planned, they’ll be too busy to pay attention.”
“You better not be doing something to get us all in trouble.” His lips twisted in a nasty replica of a smile. “Anyway, like I’m sayin’, how about laying off for a little while on the extras, or are you so far gone you can’t take a breather?”
He frowned at the little shit. “My business is my business. Your boss gets paid plenty for this, and so do you. I don’t think you want to take a cut in your income.”
“I don’t want to lose a nice source of money, either,” Tony said. “The top man says he don’t want no more little side trips for a while. That’s that.”
“You tell the top man to let me worry about my end of the deal. I’ll take care of that nosy bitch, you can count on it. We’re not changing anything.”
“Okay, I’ll tell him, but he ain’t gonna like it.” Tony picked up his check and slid out of the booth.
“Just be sure we meet up as usual this week or therewillbe trouble.”
Tony stared at him. “You threatening me, old man?”
“Just giving you some information to pass along.”
He watched Tony head for the door with his usual arrogant walk. The kid was getting an over-inflated idea of himself. Someone needed to take a chip or two out of him. Later.
First, his plan. He needed to put it into action soon. To take Carrie/Dana out of the picture before she began digging around any more. Her reputation was that of a bulldog. She’d be all over the past like green on grass unless he got rid of her. But he had to do it right. One single death would be suspicious. A string of them would have the county on edge, especially because it would be such an anomaly. He’d do what he had to.
At the same time, he’d be giving folks a new bone to chew on. Something to take the focus away from those old cases. The sheriff would be too busy to help Dana and the newspapers would have something new to feed on. Something that would provide misdirection.
He hadn’t been caught before and he wouldn’t be now. He was damned good at that—not getting caught. And he already had his first victim chosen. But he’d better get moving before things fell apart right before his eyes.
Today. He’d start today. He could feel the sexual excitement the violence stimulated coursing through his body. Throwing some bills on the table, he settled his Stetson on his head, smiled at everyone, and walked slowly out of the diner.
****
He watched Leanne Pritchard stop at her truck, both hands filled with plastic sacks of soda, and stare at the flat tire. Even at this distance, he could see the frown on her face. She looked around, as if seeking someone to help her, but the parking lot was fairly empty of people. Besides, she’d parked way down at the end of a row, on the side, where hardly anyone ever went. He’d never let his own kids park so far away. But she was driving her daddy’s truck and probably worried about scratching it.
She set her sacks down and patted her pockets, obviously looking for her cell phone. Kids never went anywhere without them these days. She finally pulled it out and stared at it. This was the chance he’d taken, that she’d be able to call for help. But it was a risk he was willing to take. He could just help her with her tire and be on his way. Wait for a more appropriate time.
But like so many kids these days—and adults—she’d apparently forgotten to recharge it. She jabbed it back into her pocket in disgust.
Okay. Good.
